


Visions Unseen

by Seriitz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 22,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29461203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seriitz/pseuds/Seriitz
Summary: As a 24 year old Divination professor at Hogwarts, it is ironic that you couldn't predict falling in love with notorious Azkaban escapee, Sirius Black.Usually updated every 2 days 🐢Next chapter on 18th March!
Relationships: Minerva McGonagall & Reader, Remus Lupin & Reader, Severus Snape & Reader, Sirius Black/Reader, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

Cups clinked against saucers as you stacked them up on the shelf ready for your next Divination class. The smell of frankincense wafts through the space and out of the open window, taking with it any residual energy. The days were stranger now than they had been. Before a certain green-eyed, bed-headed orphan of a boy had made waves once again in the wizarding community. A stir surrounding the now 13-year-old, Boy Who Lived.

Closing the windows with a soft slide of metal against wood, you then moved to pick up your deck of cards. Taking a seat in your armchair, once a plush red velvet now given way to patches of bare thread and your haphazard attempts at repair, you remind yourself of the task at hand. Rolling long sleeves up to your elbows, you slide your cards in an arc over the purple tablecloth. Your hand glides freely from left to right before settling on one, two, and a third card. 

The cards- black with ornate gold gilt swirls and lines- were turned one by one to reveal the faces. The first card, the Fool. A person dangles their over the cliffedge. Perhaps unaware of the danger that lurks below. Perhaps knowing the danger but taking those steps in earnest. The second card, The High Priestess reversed. The cards on her table are held at the apex of being turned. Only she knows your fate. Only she knows what hidden secret is waiting to be revealed. The third, Eight of Swords. Blindfolded, loosely bound, and surrounded by swords. A self-imposed entrapment, a self-imposed guilt. 

"Kinky," you pursed your lips and smirked. "Merlin knows I've wasted my 24 years of youth and now the cards themselves taunt me for not coming out of my little bubble."

"Professor?" chimes a voice, clear as a bell, before it's owner skips through the curtained door. 

"Ah, Luna, I knew it would be you," you smile, gesturing your open hand to the tea cup shelf as you sweep up your cards in one fell swoop. 

"Nargles!" You both exclaim, to the giggles of the blonde who swiped two delicate porcelain teacups and saucers from their place. 

Standing up slowly, you moved to your teapot and reheat enough water for two. Only once the steam was swirling with the fragrance of particularly sweet Earl Grey did either of you speak again. 

"So, how has your day been, Luna?" You asked, noting the dark skin of her undereyes and the peculiar mud stains standing out against even the black of her robes. 

The girl took a sip of tea, tensing slightly at the question but answering with a smile. "You know me, Professor, always up to something." 

You sighed softly, pushing air through your nose. "Well, I suggest that next time you're 'up to something', you let a Professor know."

Luna shakes her head, "Nothing I can't deal with, honestly, Professor. You know my mother used to say that you always get back what you give out. I wouldn't want to get you or anyone else into trouble." 

"Oh my sweet summer child, they don't deserve you," you murmur, putting your palm to her cheek and softly stroking away at tear lines. 

You hated it when your kids got hurt. You hated how mean your kids could be to each other. 

Luna smiles as she finishes her tea, "Thank you, Professor, but I really must get going to my next class. Lunch time is almost over." 

You reach into your drawer and pick out a box of snacks, opening the lid and offering the choice. "No pressure. Just take a little nibble for later?" 

The blonde hesitates, nods, and picks out a small packet of biscuits. She slips them into her robe pocket and turns with a wave back to you. 

As she slips out of the curtain, you peek into her cup. The initials MB, TD, and PP, emblazoned next to a small bull creature, a symbol of strife and hardship.

"Those three. Again," you sigh, exasperated. 

You hop up out of your armchair and take a little leap, transforming into your Animagus form, a little black cat. Your white sock paws pad past the curtain and down the spiral staircase heading to the main corridor. You were just about to turn into the Great Hall when you hear mewing from down the corridor. Following the sounds, you finally reach Minerva McGonagall and Mrs Norris having a very heated conversation.

"-careful around the students?"

"I don't know about that, Minerva. All I know is that that boy is sneaking around again, just like he did when he was here as a student!" 

"Hmrph. Well, as long as the trio are behaving themselves so far. I'm so worried about Potter, what with that monster of a god-" 

"It's rude to stare," Mrs Norris spits, cutting Minerva off midsentence, her red eyes almost rolling in annoyance.

"Ah! Sorry, I heard voices," you stumble out. "I had no intention of spying, truly."

"Not to worry, dear, Mrs Norris and I were just wrapping up," the grey cat with black markings similar to spectacles consoled. 

Mrs Norris bobbed her head in a half nod. "I'll keep watch." 

Minerva padded in front of you, only stopping to look behind her at you in a wordless manner to say "come along". You bounded up beside her, tail swishing. 

"Not to pry, Minerva, but is there something we should know about Harry?" Your heart lurched at the thought of one of your kits being in danger yet again. 

"Well. If you must know, dearie. He's been spotted in Dufftown. Harry's godfather, Sir-" 

"Sirius Black?!" 

Minerva stopped walking, her head bowed to the floor looking solemn even in her Animagus form. 

"But how? You don't think he'll try to get through the wards on school grounds do you? Dumbledore himself maintains them. Not to mention the ghoulish Dementors!" 

"He snuck past the Dementors once, what's to say he couldn't do it again?" She conceded. "We must stay vigilant. For the safety of the boy, and the school."

"Of course, Minerva," you quickly agree. "Does Harry know?" 

"Yes, I suspect he will have been informed already. The Prophet is quick to report for better or worse. I will leave you with this for I know you care for our students deeply," she voices, solemnly turning and picking up pace to her office. 

Sirius Black. Notorious Mass Murderer, in the words of the Prophet. Not a day goes by at this school without drama.

You make a mental note to check up on Harry when he passes through your class next period and continue on your original task.


	2. Chapter 2

Students flood out of the potions lab as their class ends. A couple of Hufflepuffs reach down to pet your chin, only to realise their mistake and stutter out "Sorry, Professor!" before nudging their friends away.

"Nyao," you mewl after them, hoping they understood you.

"Snape, Snape, Severus Snape," you sing as you round the corner into the potions classroom having transformed quickly in the corridor.

"Not you, again," Severus groans as he shelves a rat tail.

"Why of course its me. I thought you and I were the best of friends, Sev," you pout, flopping onto a stool.

"No, no, no," Severus panics, sweeping his wand to enchant a cloth to wipe across the desk before your body has a chance to smush into whatever mess the 1st years had left behind.

You make a swooning noise, glancing up at him through your batting eyelashes, "My hero!"

He scoffs at you, turning his back as what looks mysteriously to be a smirk starts to spread across his lips.

"And what misfortune have I been placed with to have you in my presence?" he asks, back still turned, fiddling with lacewing flies in a conical jar.

"You are the Head of Slytherin House" you state.

"As I have been for years, or have you been too distracted with other notions than to notice my superiority?" He retorted, with a scoff.

"If I told you that 3 baby Slytherin were making life difficult for one of my other kids, what would you do?"

"That depends. Do I like the other one?"

You think back to all of the occasions you've witnessed between Severus and Luna. The latter insisting her Cure For Boils now melts through metal because of nargles. Severus insisting that it was because she was reading her book upside down and read 6 as 9 which was entirely too much for such a potion. Luna refusing to use any potion ingredients that were from endangered animals and requesting that she use her own substitute while Severus takes this as a personal challenge to find alternate ingredients that enhance the potion's effects.

"You... Put up with them?" You grin.

He gives you a look of exasperation, "Very well, send them to detention if you catch them in the act. I'll be sure to-"

"No, no. Not yet," you splay your hands out in front of you as if to halt his words. "I want you to send them up to me. For a little chat. Happy people do not bully others, Severus."

The sighing coming from across the room tells you that he has certainly had experience of that particular nuance.

"Look, they won't come if I ask them straight up. But they will if you tell them they need to. Extra credit or a little one-to-one chat," you added. "They respect you."

Severus straightens up at this, a smile poking out of his smug face. "Yes, they do. Unlike you," he gestures. "You let them walk all over you."

"They're my kids, Sev. They're young, and confused, and sometimes they're hurting but-"

"Okay, okay, spare me your bleeding heart rhetoric. I'll do it. For you."

Squealing, you bounce out of your seat to wrap your arms around his waist.

"Thank you! And if it doesn't work, you can always have your little power trip detention session," you giggle as he squirms out of your embrace and shoos you out of the door.

Practically skipping, you make your way up to your classroom before your students start to show up. You place the last 3 teacups on the empty desk as two of the last students filter in. Harry and Ron, inseparable since 1st year, take the table while mumbling apologies.

You turn to stand at your own desk, reaching for your own copy of Tasseomancy: Signs and Symbols. Upon turning back your final student, Hermione Granger, appears to be pulling out her own book. Hermione has resisted your teaching for the past months but she somehow sticks through it despite often times noting divination to be-

"Nonsense. Look again, that's clearly a heart right next to those initials!" Pansy groans. "Honestly, Millie, I don't know how you can see that as a cross."

Pulled out of your thoughts by Miss Parkinson, you look up to see your students staring confusedly into their own teacups.

"Remember, only read your own cups for now," you chide. "You must know yourself before you can know others."

"What a load of rubbish," mutters Hermione, eyebrows furrowed staring into her own cup.

"Is that a black dog, Harry?" you hear Ron chime in from the side, confused expression on his face as he scours through the book of symbols.

"That's the Grim," wonderment comes from a Gryffindor sitting at a table behind. "An omen of death."

You smirk and try not to roll your eyes in front of your kids. Someone always tries to predict a death at least once a year in this class, knowing the Gryffindor it will probably be something much less fanciful.

"Give it here, Harry," you request, gesturing your hand towards the cup.

Peering in, you fight the urge to instantly release the cup. The Grim. As clear as day spreading across the bottom, side and top of the cup. The omen of death in past, present, and future.

You chuckle, not wishing to scare your kids any further, "It's a dinosaur. Look!"

You turn the cup upside down, turning the ears to little feet and the tail into a long neck and head which earns you a couple of giggles from the other tables.

You place the cup down carefully back on its saucer, giving Harry a little pat on the shoulder. "The leaves show us a possibility, not a determined map. Only you can choose where it leads."

As class ends, you see Hermione shuffling her papers into her bookbag looking more frustrated at the fact that Ron could make out basic symbols in his own cup while she still struggled.

Abstract imagery does not seem to be her forte, you think. How about something a little more solid?

"Can you spare me a minute, Hermione? I know your schedule is full," you enquire, pulling out a slightly scruffy deck of cards and a black velvet pouch from your desk drawer.

Hermione deflates slightly, perching onto the armchair across the table from your own, "If you wish, Professor."

No matter how much she hated the subject of your teaching she still would not dream of disobeying a Professor.

She watches as you spread the deck and choose cards, "You're very methodical. You like tangibility." You let out a laugh, "You think my class is wishy-washy."

"Surely you don't need a pack of playing cards to tell you that, Professor," she quipped.

You chuckled, "No, the cards told me you're having a hard time coming to terms with your romantic attractions and currently feeling guilty about resenting the responsibilities you've put upon yourself but that's a whole other kettle of fish."

You quickly distract her from your words by pulling a black stone out of the velvet bag and placing it in front of her. You didn't want to out her when she wasn't ready.

"Laios. All that is gold does not glitter. To see the good in what appears bad," you state. "These weren't meant to be taught until next semester but I think they might just sway you to stick with Divination."

"How so?" she whispers, eyes still scrolling over the cards placed in front of her.

"I've noticed you prefer book learning to intuitive work. You most certainly excel in all things that have a clear answer. Potions where one plus one always equals two if you follow the directions, or Charms where the correct movement comes together with precise pronunciation, " reasoning your thoughts with the bushy-haired brunette.

She gives you a small smile, "But everything is down to interpretation still is it not?"

"Learn the meanings of the cards first before looking deeper. They'll guide you. Everything slides into place like a story waiting to be told. A beginning, middle, and end."

"And if they don't?" her brown crinkling in a frown.

"Then I'll be heartbroken and weep for days," you smirk, dramatically flouncing your hand across your forehead and making her giggle. "But if that's truly your choice then I'll accept it knowing I've done everything in my power to sway you."

Hermione looks down at the cards, sweeping her hand across the faded ink blue backs before making her choice.

As she flips it upright you find yourself startling. The Tower. Everything you know flipped on its head. Quite simply a new path born of chaos.

"Well then," you rise, bundling the cards and velvet pouch into her hands. "Take care of the cards, they were one of my first. I hope they serve you well."

"Thank you, Professor," she says earnestly. "I won't let you down."

As she sweeps out of the door you find yourself flopping back into your armchair. Chaos, eh? Well it is Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets spicier I promise :')


	3. Chapter 3

Remus Lupin teaches his class as if he has practiced in front of a mirror every day for the past 20 years of his life. This much is evident from the music he decides to play in the background, vintage even then. Students squabble and push to line up for their own chance at defeating a Boggart as you watch, quietly smiling, from the doorway.

Snape suits his red handbag but the taxidermy is so last season. A cobra turns into a popup clown, a giant spider on rollerskates, a disembodied hand to a crab.

Then Harry steps up. The Boggart swirls and swirls as a dark mass takes form before Lupin slides over, calling out, "Here!" 

The full moon rises above the clouds, the Riddikulus charm turning it into a white deflating balloon swirling over the heads of the students until it locks onto you. 

The swirling stops. 

Your breath stops. 

Your heart almost stops. 

Not that. Anything but... that. 

"Riddikulus!" you yell, your wand swept out of your robe pocket and into your shaking hand. The form shimmers and breaks into snow, blown away into the wardrobe it came from. 

"Are you-" Lupin starts before you swiftly turn on your heel and speed away to your class. 

Shaken, you glide through the halls and up to your classroom. Closing the door behind you, you breathe in the familiar frankincense air and slump down the doorframe.

You weren't sure how long you had been asleep for; your eyes blinking in the darkness as they try to focus, swiping the crusted sleep and tears from your lashes. Picking yourself up with a sway, you swipe the dust off your robes to the tune of your stomach growling.

"Midnight snack?" you asked yourself aloud. "Midnight snack." 

You open the door and take a little leap out into your Animagus form. Spiraling staircases were so much easier when you had the agility of a cat. The kitchens were always your source of comfort when you were a student and that hadn't changed since you came back to teach.

You turned down the corridor onto the first set of moving staircases when a black mass sweeps into the shadows ahead of you. Putting aside all common sense you pursue the figure forward, padding along the stones and poking your head around the corner into the dark, stretching corridor. 

A dark hand sweeps you up by the scruff of the neck and holds you aloft, wand pointed at your head. 

"You're not McGonagall," a confused voice whispered. 

" _Mew_?" you reply innocently. Looking the figure up and down. 

Dark eyes pierced through wild unruly strands of shaggy black hair. Sallow, sunken cheeks making cheekbones look painful under muddy skin. The figure mutters a charm and you feel your limbs getting heavier as you transform out of your cat form. 

"Oh, well. Definitely not McGonagall then," the figure winked as he reached his free hand to your mouth to keep you from shouting. "Can you pretend you didn't see me?" 

"Can you pretend you didn't accost me?!" your muffled voice buzzes, squirming as the dark figures broad hand still sits firmly around your neck.

The figure chuckles quietly, a straggle of hair puffing away from his face at the force as he moves his fingers from your lips. 

"Don't be so loud, love," the figure murmurs in honeyed tones. "Wouldn't want anyone to find us like this."

"I know who you are. I'm not scared of you," your voice wavers, ignoring his implications. 

The figure smirks, "Oh I bet you know all about me."

"You can't touch him. Any of my kids. I won't let you." 

" _Let me_? Sirius Black, Notorious Mass Murderer and Betrayer of the Potters?" he spits venomously. "And you won't _let_ me do what I need to do?" 

"No," you say firmly, grabbing his thumb from around your neck and twisting.

In the split moment it takes him to realise you're actually fighting back you grab your wand, disarming him with a simple flick of your wrist. 

"I suggest you leave before you find out what other tricks I have up my sleeve."

"Wait!" Black whispered, hands raised placatingly. "Harry's in danger!" 

You cocked your head to the side, looking incredulously at the bedraggled man in front of you. "I know! You're trying to fucking murder the boy!" you say a little too loudly before moderating your voice back to a whisper. "No shit he's in danger!" 

"What?!" Black's brows furrow. "Not Harry, the rat!"

"Rat?"

"Pettigrew!"

"Who?"

"The rat!" Black sighs. "You know? Sharp teeth, big ears, long tail, rat."

"...Which one?" you ask, thoroughly confused. 

"The ginger one, Weasley, he-" 

"His ears aren't that big-" 

"No! His rat! Pettigrew!" Black whispers frantically. 

"Scabbers?" you question. 

"Yes! Pettigrew! He's here, in the castle! I have to kill him!" 

"He went missing days ago! Ron has been beside himself with worry. Cruickshanks swears he didn't touch that rat. And... Why do you want to murder his pet anyway?" 

Black takes a deep breath as if to steel himself, his hand gripping his forehead. "You couldn't have told me this 10 minutes ago?!" 

Your stomach gurgles loudly into the darkness. 

"How about I explain everything over some food and a stiff drink?" he offers. 


	4. Chapter 4

"Stay here," you warn the black dog as he stretches out to his human form lounging infront of the heat radiating from your fireplace. "If I find out you've moved, Merlin grace you, I will hurt you."

"Ooh, spicy. Is that a threat or a promise?" Black quipped with a smirk.

"Its a promise of a threat," you say, quickly skirting out of the door and locking it behind you before he course see the red flush in your cheeks.

**_What are you doing?! This isn't a dinner date, he's a murderer! A self acclaimed one at that._ **

Nothing, however, could still your thoughts as you made your way down to the kitchens for the second time in an hour.

"Wine? Whisky?" you mutter to yourself. " _Both_? **Both**." 

You fill your basket with leftovers from the Grand Hall dinner, hoping the house elves had all sequestered themselves to bed. Sneaking back up the moving staircases with clinking bottles proved to be slightly more difficult but you had trained for this moment since 4th Year, albeit moving from the kitchens to the Hufflepuff common room or the Slytherin parties wasn't half as challenging. 

Opening your classroom door you find Black curled on the rug just as you left him. He lifts his head up as you walk in, carefully closing the door behind you.

"I wasn't sure what you would eat so I got you a range," you explain, pulling out everything from sliced turkey to chocolate profiteroles, slapping his hand away as he reached out to grab one. 

"Here's how this is going to work," you level with him. "You answer my questions, you get a bite. You disobey, you get nothing but McGonagall hexing you to all hells and back for breaking and entering."

"Understood."

"And wash your hands first for Merlin's sake! Were you raised by wolves?" 

"Actually," he half nods his head, rising to the sink in the corner for washing out the teacups. "Lupin did act like our mother for the greatest part of our time together." 

Stifling a snort of laughter as you poured a glass of wine, "I can see that. He's very comforting to the kids too. Pretty much taken Harry under his wing this whole semester." 

"Mmh," he smiles forlorn, as if recalling a memory that both hurts and heals. "I should hope so too. Back when we were dating he always was the more careful one. Where I was putting Harry on toy brooms he was running in front with the cushions ready for an impromptu landing."

"You...and Remy?" you enquired, downing what you had left in your glass of the wine and pouring yourself something stronger. 

"Since 5th year. It took him that long to admit everything to himself mind you," he sat on your spare armchair, taking up his own glass of firewhisky to his lips. "Fuck, I missed that taste. "

The white of his knuckles were in stark contrast with his dirt caked wrists. This man heard 'wash your hands' and chose violent obediance.

Your throat runs dry as you watch him swallow, eyes trailing down to his open shirt revealing the black marks of a Secret Keeper. Of course, you're not at all as subtle as you believe, the man in front of you catching your gaze as he pushes the hair back from his eyes. Your neck seems to throb from the last time his hands were on you. 

"Being accused of murdering two of your best friends and orphaning their child does put a dampener on a relationship somewhat. He had left me as soon as the news broke. I don't blame him, I can see how it looked to everyone." 

"So the rat?" you gently enquired, the talk of death being a strong libido dampener. 

Black sighs through his nose, "The rat. Pettigrew. He was our friend, you know? Cut off all ties with us-not to mention his own finger for fucks sake."

He sees your questioning looks and explains, "It was a set up. He'd been putting Remus and I against each other for weeks, making him question my loyalty to our friends while wheedling himself out of any responsibility. He was- is- one of Voldemort's followers."

Pouring himself another large glass of whisky, he settles back in his chair. "It was all arranged in his own theatrical way. Voldemort's arrival, me as the scapegoat. Nothing left behind but his finger, some collaterally mangled muggles, Harry Potter, and two of my best friends' bodies."

You knock back the whisky, his words rolling around your mind as you return to the comfort of your cards. 

"Twelve years, Sirius. _Twelve_ ," you mutter in disbelief, the bright silver scales of Libra on the reversed Justice card telling you all you need to know. 

He reaches over the table, grasping your hand in his. "Please believe me. Voldemort will return and when he does we have to be ready. Harry has to be ready."

You find yourself gripping his hand tightly, nodding, red-hot tears making a path down your cheek. "So, how can I help?" 

The warning signs of a panic flood through the gaps in the classroom door.

"It was Black, I saw him! Eyes like the devil he has!" screeches the Fat Lady as she flits between picture frames in the corridors below. 

Sirius turns back to you, eyes bright. "I think that's my cue to leave, love," he winks, snatching a turkey leg into his pocket for later and scrambling to the window of the tower.

"How will you get down from there?!" you gawp as he swings a leg out of the window.

"Ask Remus," he smirks, giving a jaunty salute with his wand in hand and pushing off from the window frame.

"Professor, have you heard?!" the door swings open so harshly the frame rattles on impact. 

You stare shocked at the sight of Pansy standing in the door frame, hair wild in a dark halo around her head with her fringe at a 90-degree angle with her forehead.

"Heard what? Its been so quiet tonight," you say, feigning surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *~They do be Bisexual tho~*


	5. Chapter 5

"Those useless tissues, I'm going to kill them I swear!"

It's been a few days since Sirius' impromptu break-in and the Ministry's Dementors are proving themselves worthless. Today's Quidditch match was a complete wipe out resulting in multiple injuries and a broken broomstick. 

Minerva lets out a chuckle at your depiction of the Dementors before sobering slightly to mention, "Its a good thing Albus was there. Those creatures aren't allowed this close to school grounds."

"They almost killed two students, Minnie! Two of our kids!" you exclaim, throwing your hands up as you pace back and forth along the front of her desk. "Its like they're focused on attacking the boy."

Minerva sighs dejectedly, moving to still you and clap her hand on your shoulder in comfort. "Albus is looking out for Harry, dear. It doesn't always seem like the best course of action but you would do well to remember that they're your students, not your best friends. As Professors we must teach them how to survive in the world. A student that is alive and dislikes you is always greater than a student who hangs on your every word."

One noncommittal response later and you find yourself stalking the hallways to the staffroom. So deep in your own thoughts that you manage to walk straight into none other than Lupin. 

"Oop- hot tea! Hot tea!" He panics, shielding his mug with a weathered hand.

"Oh, sorry, Remus," you mutter, moving to pass by him. 

He sidesteps back into your path. Looking up you see his eyes softly sweeping over your face before fixing on yours. 

"Fancy a chat? I've got snacks," he offers, warmly. "You can't go wrong with a bit of chocolate and a nice warm mug of tea." 

"You know what? That's sounds heavenly right about now." 

Snuggled into the blankets beside the fire in the staffroom, you sip away at your tea.

"So," you start. 

Lupin looks up from his cross-legged state on the armchair across from yours. His blanket pulled up over his head like a hood as he quizes, "So..?" 

"So when were you going to tell me that Black was a childhood friend, ex-lover, and that you're helping him sneak into the castle at night?" you ask, taking a measured sip of your tea. 

A choking sound and a splutter of tea escape Remus's lips.

"What?! Me? Not me, wrong bit-" he stutters. 

"Remy," you level with a smile. "How was the sex?" 

He sighs in exasperation and makes the 'ok' sign with his hand raised as if in triumph, chuckling into his mug as he goes for another sip. 

Your squealing in excitement sends him into a fit of warm laughter. 

"How the hell did you find out? Was it Severus?" He levelled with you, "His tales are as tall as the Gryffindor Tower but I could tell you some stories about him that would give you nightmares." 

"No, not Severus," you smirked. "But I would like to hear some stories of your time at Hogwarts."

"Then who would-?" he pondered aloud. 

"Well it takes two to tango, or so I've heard."

"That little bitch," Remus says, open hanging open slightly in disbelief. "Wait, that means-" 

"He kidnapped me, made me eat, got us a little tipsy, and jumped out the window," you state, as if it was just another Monday night's essay marking.


	6. Chapter 6

"Honestly, Minnie, it's Christmas! Live a little!" you moaned from her side, arm in arm as you both walked to the Madam Rosmerta's pub.

Minerva sighed, "I will _**not**_ be doing any version of a Jingle Bell Rock **_or_** Roll, regardless of how popular it is with the muggleborn students."

"You say that now, but I know how you get with a little firewhisky," you grin. "Its all 'out with the rollers' and 'in with the Selkie Slide'."

She rolls her eyes, exasperated with you for at least the 10th time this week. You were heading to a little Professor gathering at the Three Broomsticks. Sirius Black was becoming hot topic and serious issue.

You hold open the door as Minerva steps into the pub, quickly followed by Fudge, Head of the Ministry of Magic.

"Good to see you, dear! I'll have a butterbeer. Still on duty you know," he smiles as he passes, sneakily trying to pass Minerva to be first in the lounge upstairs. 

"Oh, I'm not the wai-" you started. "Gone. So that'll be my round then too."

The bartender smiles at you, "Go on up, I'll get them." 

"Its not that important," you sigh, watching them mesmerised as they mix your usual. 

"I guess I'm graced with your presence then," they wink, twirling the syrup to pour with grace.

"I hope you don't flirt with all the Professors like this." 

"Only the beautiful ones," they add, sitting your drink down in front of you. "Essentially you, Flitwick, and McGonagall." 

You scrunch your nose up, giving out a low laugh. "Minnie is mine, Flitwick is fair game."

"Okay, I see how it is," they grin and call after you as you pick up the tray of drinks and make your way carefully up the stairs. 

"-probably tell, Sirius Black is a clear danger to Potter!" Minerva's voice carries on as you walk in. 

"An absolute brute!" Fudge bellows, grabbing his butterbeer. "Evicerated that poor boy Pettigrew, all that was left was-" 

"A finger," you end.

"Quite." 

"And the worst of it was that in betraying James and Lily, he condemned them to death. His own best friends," Minerva adds. 

"How do you know he did it? That he betrayed them? Surely-" you enquire. 

"He was their Secret Keeper. The only other who knew the location of the Potters bar Dumbledore and the Potters themselves! Under the Fidelis charm the location could only be revealed by a Secret Keeper to the one they are hiding from," Fudge spits bemused. "He ran into hiding as soon as the boy was discovered alive. Who else could it have been?"

"And after all this time, he remains, Harry Potter's godfather!" Minerva says, voice shaking. 

A gust of wind rushes by, jolting the door with a crack of wood. Strange, with no windows open. 

The walk back to the castle seems longer than usual. The fresh smell of the pine trees littering the grounds reminds you how close it is to Christmas. Almost time for the holidays.

As you climb into your classroom armchair, softly sipping your cup of peppermint tea and flicking open your latest trashy novel, you hear a knock at the door. Straightening your legs out to look less like a gargoyle, you call the stranger in. 

"Professor!" Pansy walks through the door all smiles, hand linked with Hermione's, and Luna trailing in behind them. 

"Girls," you chuckle. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company today?" 

Pansy pulls a small green box with silver ribbon streamers out from behind her back and places it in front of you on the desk, sliding it over to within your reach. 

"For me?" you choke. 

"So Hermione and I have really been hitting it off ever since we had that talk Professor Snape mandated," she beams, going on to add, "I really don't know what I would have done without you." 

' _Probably denied your feelings for women all your life and end up with some white boy with mommy **and** daddy issues_,' you think to yourself. 

"Honestly, you two put in all the work. I'm so proud of you both, sweethearts!" you beam. "So what's in the box?" 

You undo the ribbon and lift the top of the box to find a new deck of cards nestled in amongst the green tissue paper. 

"Pansy..." 

"They're not trick Zonko cards or anything, promise. Hermione read it was lucky to be gifted them and since you helped her with her first deck, we thought we'd return the favour!"

Fanning the cards out over the tablecloth you try not to completely breakdown in tears in front of your kids. 

"They're lovely," you manage to croak. "Thank you!" 

"Ooh, me next!" Luna's voice chimes, pushing a large bundle of tissue paper into your hands. 

Unwrapping the parcel you find a long purple robe, hand embroidered with flowers around the hem and stars across the lapels.

"I made it," she says, pointing to the galaxy of stars, "Told myself I could only put a bit on if I had a bite of lunch first."

That's what breaks you. Long after the kids leave you sit in your new robe, clutching the cards to your chest until eventually night falls and a tapping sounds at the window. 

' _What kind of lost owl is delivering at this time_?'

Moving to the window, you slide open the glass and in tumbles a familiar face. 

"You," you smirk. 

"Me!" Sirius beams. "I need your help with something. It's top secret, need to know business, highly life and death situation, and- why are you crying?" 

"The smell of you is kicking me into a fight or flight response," you quip, swiping at your face with your hand. 

He places his hands over his heart as if you dealt a mortal wound. 

"The shack has very limited amenities," he states plainly, siding closer to you to whisper in your ear, "But if you want to get into a tub with me later and wash my back, I wouldn't complain," 

You place a hand on his chest and push him away slightly as you grumble in mock protest, "That would be more effective if you didn't smell like Hippogriff piss." 

He chuckles softly, "And your rejections would be more effective if you weren't literally turning beetroot, love."


	7. Chapter 7

"When you said life or death, I expected more..." you wave your arms in an attempt explain, "Not this?"

Sirius had met back up with you on the outskirts of Hogsmeade the next day, having left you abruptly the previous night with only instructions to meet him at 4pm on the dot. The town would be quiet, most of the students having left for home over the holidays and hopefully that would reduce the risk of questions about my seemingly new pet dog. If we managed to avoid Minerva that was. 

"Hey, there can be no greater task than finding the right broom for your boy!" he explained before transforming into his Grim form.

"I still think it's a stupid idea to risk being seen for a broomstick."

The best part of Sirius being stuck in dog form was the lack of backchat but even so you swear the withering eye rolls remained no matter what form he took.

"I know, ' _It's not just a broomstick, babe, it's a Firebolt_!'" you mocked. 

Sirius whined. 

"You do so sound like that." 

A bark. 

"Do I need to get the leash or are you going to behave?" you snapped, immediately regretting your word choice.

For better or worse it shut him up while you walked to the supply shop in town. Business wasn't exactly booming for Wylie's Wizarding Wares at this time of day, as the door swung open to an empty shop you called out for the owner. 

"Just a minute!" came a lilting voice from the back. 

Looking around the selection of wares in the store you quickly found interesting objects. A section dedicated to books, both muggle and magical. Pulling out a particular leather bound volume of a childhood favourite, you stroked the cover.

"What can I do you for?" came the voice of the owner, grey haired with a spine as curved as the Earth. 

"The Firebolt broom," you started, placing the book down on the desk. "Do you have any in stock? Its to be a gift for a young wizard."

The witch smiles, "A fine choice of equipment for the sporting young witch or wizard."

You duck as they raise their wand and a Firebolt whizzes past where your head used to be.

"Coin?" she asks.

You look down at Sirius, highly doubting he has pockets in that long fur coat of his. 

"Coin." 

The bell chimes as you open the door, wrapped broom and dog Sirius in tow. 

"Now what?" you mumble. "' _Here you go Harry, Happy Christmas_ ' in the middle of dessert in the Great Hall?" 

You look over at Sirius, suspiciously quiet until you realise his mouth is preoccupied. 

"Is that-?!" you exclaim, clasping the object in his jaws. "The book." 

You sigh, turning straight back into the shop and ready to make your apologies. 

"Ma'am, I think my dog stole this. I'll return it, or pay for it. It is slightly slobbered over," you fret. 

"Oh no, I let him have it for being such a _Good Boy **,**_ " she speaks, voice rising a couple of octaves as she steps forward and gives Sirius some ear scritches. 

"I can't let you do that," you laugh. "Please let me pay." 

"No, no, I _insist_!" she says with a smile. "Happy Christmas!" 

You leave the shop in disbelief, Sirius wagging his tail the whole way back to the castle under the cover of darkness.

"So, Where's your master plan now?"

You look up at the North Tower in confusion as Sirius stretches back out to his human form. 

"Now, we fly," he states matter-of-factly. 

Squealing, you are pulled into his arms as he kicks off the ground on the Firebolt. 

"Have I ever told you of my fear of heights?" you squeak, nails scrabbling at his shirt for purchase. 

Unceremoniously, he tosses you through the opened window into your classroom, following closely behind. 

"So that's your secret method? A fucking broomstick?" you dissolve into laughter at the ridiculousness of it all. 

"Don't disrespect the method, it works doesn't it?" he smiles, leaning the broom against your desk as he hands you the leather-bound book. 

"I'm a good boy, did you hear?" he chuckles. "There's a first time for everything, I suppose."

"I'll make sure Harry get your gifts," you smile, turning to place the book down on your desk. 

"Ah, that one's just for you. In exchange for the broom. I know it's not much but-" He picks up the book, flicking quickly through the pages cover to cover. "A muggle book, strange choice." 

"Don't flick through like that, you'll get it all dog-eared. Its my favourite," you blurt out. "My parents would read it to me when I was little. I would always dream of doing magic like the girl in the book. Getting justice on my evil teachers, or making cakes move with my mind. Until one day it happened."

Sirius smiles warmly as you take a seat on the edge of the desk, gesturing wildly and getting far too excited about a simple book. 

"It sure did give my muggle parents a scare though when they found a Victoria Sponge just floating in the hall- _Mmph_!" 

Sirius's lips press firmly onto yours, his hand slipping into your hair as you relax into the kiss, his body arking over yours as you sit pressed upon the desk. Your right hand slides up his chest to rest along his jawline, your left hand balled in in his shirt. 

Breaking lip contact to breathe, he rolls his face down, your foreheads touching as you giggle, "Okay, I really wasn't kidding about the Hippogriff piss so maybe a bath?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we can add a lil bit of spice. 😭


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild Spice Ahead 🛀

"When you said bath, I really did not expect _this_ ," Sirius laughs from a mountain of foam as you sit on a stool next to the claw foot tub, carefully trimming his nails.

You glance up at him, stilling your buffing pad, "Look at the water! It's quite literally _black_. If you think I'm getting in there right now, you are very sorely mistaken. And anyway, you were the one who had to go jump in the slush puddles on the way back."

Finishing the nails you turn your attention to his mop of hair. 

"Consider this your Christmas Eve gift, Sirius. Lean back for me?"

As you card your hands through the long waves you find yourself being watched intently. Pouring the jug of clean, warm water over the locks of hair and gently massage the shampoo into his scalp, you see his eyes slide closed, smile firmly fixed on his face.

"I don't think I've had my hair washed like this since I was a baby," he murmurs in peaceful delight.

Leaning over, you give him a soft kiss on his chapped lips.

"What was that for?"

"For being the best customer at my spa so far," you smile.

"Love, I'm your only customer." 

You don't give an answer, instead choosing to rinse the shampoo out of his hair and apply conditioner to the ends. 

"If I am not silky smooth by the end, I wish for a refund."

"Duly noted," you say, giggling.

You carefully whip the wet hair into a towel bun, passing him a larger body towel and making for the door. 

You grab the door frame and glance back, "I'll make the tea. Take as long as you need." 

You take a walk through to your living space. Blue voile with twinkling silver stars draped around the circular ceiling, your tea set placed next to your dressing table in front of a window.

You light the burner with a muggle lighter, setting the pot on top to boil before flumping backwards onto your yellow duvet. 

Sirius pads through, barefoot, cracking open the door and quietly shutting it behind him, noting that your lighting method is "Very muggle vintage."

"That was quick," you start, leaning up on your elbow to see him. "Oh." 

"Do you like it? These are my dress robes," he poses with one hand behind his hair towel and the other in his hip, bath towel wrapped around his chest to cover his body like a dress.

You groan, "I forgot clothes. Here, let me see if I can find something. Get yourself dried up while I have a look." 

He sidles up behind you, fingertips raking a path over your hips, "Oooooooor, we could get you _dripping w_ -"

His hair towel bun flops down, and slaps him on the face.

"Dry first." You turn to face him, smirking. Taking the loose towel in your hand, an arm over each shoulder, you start scrunching the curls of his jet black hair. 

He takes this opportunity to pull you closer by the waist, bending his neck to reach down as you tip toe up to press your lips against his. Slowly, he walks you backwards until your calves hit the bed frame. 

Pulling back slightly, he whispers "Do you-" 

You nod rapidly, tugging him back down to your lips by the hair on the back of his head as you guide him to sit on the side of your bed.

The towel dress slips as you straddle his legs to sit on his lap and with a palm to his, now bare, chest you follow his torso down to lie across your sheets.

He palms your outer thighs, sliding up to grasp your hips and butt as you make your way down his neck in a line of tongue and teeth that makes his breathing hitch. Making your way to the centre of his chest you finally sit back up, grinding your hips on his lap slightly as rough hands grasp at skin under your jumper.

Sliding off your robe and letting it fall to the floor, your jumper is quickly dispatched to follow it. Broad hands palm keenly at the waistband of your trousers. 

You move to stand. 

Sirius makes a keening noise at the lack of friction. You smile widely as you slowly undo the buttons of your shirt, letting it drape past your shoulders and sink to the floor. Keeping his eye contact you start to run your hands up your belly and over your chest, carefully trailing down further as you slide your trousers down around your ankles.

Sirius lies back in silence, his throat bobs as he takes a gulp of air. 

"So I was saving these for when Minnie inevitably falls in love with me and wants to have her wicked way with me, but needs must," you grin, reaching into your bedside cabinet and pulling out a couple of foil wrapped condoms.

Sirius cracks up, " _Minnie_? You're on nickname terms?! And here I only managed a hug and a pat on the hair with her." 

"Honestly, I'm so close to getting her doing a little private show for me." 

Gasping for air in a fit of laughter, the tension between you both slips away. 

"Okay but why would you need one for her?" he looks at you confused. 

"An emergency dental dam. Y'know?" you reason, miming holding the latex sheet between your hands in front of your face and waggling your tongue out to demonstrate. 

"Hurh. You learn something new every day." 

"The amount of times I have had to educate the kids on proper PPE," you groan, rolling your eyes. "Warning of note, you do **_not_** want to be the third visitor to the Prefect's Bathroom." 

You throw him one of the wrapped condoms, "Saddle up?" 

"I was actually thinking we could break out one of your dams first and you could watch me getting some beaver wet."

"Well if that line didn't do it, there is no hope left for me!" you snort in laughter, pulling his chin up for kisses. 

"It was that or ' _here kitty kitty_ '," he chuckles to himself. 

"Aww, I would definitely have come for that one, _Pup_ ," you say with a smirk as you crawl up beside Sirius while he starts to slide his fingertips between your thighs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normalise talking about safe sex with your partner! 🤠


	9. Chapter 9

Waking up in an empty bed after having the best sex of your life must be one of the loneliest feelings in the world. As you open your groggy eyes and your room comes into focus it is clear that Sirius had snuck out at some point during the early hours of the morning. You're almost certain he dashed after cradling you to sleep, having made your whole body twitch in the overstimulation of your fifth orgasm of the night. 

"It was one 'I'm-out-of-jail-after-twelve-years-of-wrongful-imprisonment' fuck," you remind yourself, "Not 25 years of marriage." 

Groaning at the thought of you catching feelings at lightspeed, you slip your legs out of bed and move to dress yourself. After pulling a long flannel nightie over your head and a robe from the floor to keep the warmth in, you crack open your bedroom door and step out onto the little landing to look over your classroom. 

The sound of rustling paper and the screech of cellotape unrolling echos from your desk armchair making you stop in your tracks.

Sirius sits with a beaming smile; dressed in one of your pink nighties and gleefully pouring over wrapping paper in the suspicious shape of a Firebolt.

" _He stayed_ ," you thought, your heart doing a little flip at his child-like enthusiasm. 

His head snaps up in horror as he sees you standing at the top of the stairs. "No! You're meant to be in bed!" 

"I woke up earlier," you smile. "Sorry." 

"No, go back to bed. You ruined it." 

"Huh? I'm up now though... And ruined what?" 

"Bed," he says, in firmer tone, his hands waving me away. 

Confused you decide to go along with him, "Okay..?"You slip back into your room and into bed, taking off your robe and bringing the covers back up over your shoulders. Closing your eyes you listen to the footsteps get closer and closer until the door creaks open and closed. The sound of wood and metal clinking on your bedside table before the slight metallic groan of the bed springs as Sirius slides under the covers. An arm is looped around your waist as he plays big spoon, the tickle of a stubbled chin grazing your shoulder as he lays kisses up your neck. 

You giggle as you turn in his arms to face him, "Better?" 

"Much," he says earnestly, leaning into your touch as you stroke the unruly curls from his face and gripping your waist tighter.

"I almost forgot!" he frets, rising up to lean over to the bedside table. 

A tray sits laden with tea and snacks, most likely stolen from your desk stash. A lumpy little parcel of brown paper, cellotape haphazardly stuck to the folds, sits beside the cups. The last item with green stalks sticking out of the bottom of another brown paper wrap. 

"Are those..?" you laugh as he holds up the bouquet of flowers to you. "Where on earth did you get _flowers_?" 

"The greenhouses. If Sprout asks if you know what happened to her rose bushes, don't answer," he warns, pushing the other packet into your hands as he watches with glee. 

Although it looks to have been wrapped by a 5 year old, it is the sweetest thing you've received. As the wrapping unfolds a set of small, grey river pebbles tumble out, clacking against each other.

"Stones," he beams proudly. 

You laugh, "I can see that! From the Black Lake?" 

Nodding, he picks a up a couple, "So you can make your own runes. What I can remember of Divination is blurry at best, but I remember those. James and I skelped Severus with a fair few one time." 

You package the gifts carefully and pop them back on the tray before Sirius wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you down to straddle his lap under the covers. 

"Happy Christmas, love," he smiles, fingers brushing loose strands of your bedhead to the side of your face 

Leaning over the edge of your bed you pull up your own brown package, "Happy Christmas, Sirius. Its really not much. In fact, it used to be mine." 

"For me?" he gulps. Ripping into the paper excitedly he reveals a hand-knitted blanket and scarf which he immediately wraps around himself, much to the entertainment of yourself. 

"So you don't freeze to death. In your own little shack" you reason, tying a single knot in your old Hufflepuff scarf with the spare length and draping the blanket across his shoulders. 

"Hey, I'm so hot I'm my own heat source, Kitty," he smiles sadly, mind brought back to the beginning of the new term when he can no longer stay safely hidden in your little bedroom. 

"I thought you'd left already," you murmur into his lips as you kiss him, pulling the duvet snuggly around you both. 

"I did!" he perks up. "I went a little walk down to the Black Lake and the shack to pick up some things. It was starting to brighten up outside by the time I got back." 

"Sirius you're getting far too brazen. What if the Dementors found you?!" 

Oh yes, because they've been doing so well recently," he quips, rolling his eyes as he slips his hand down to rest on your knee, his thumb tracing wide circles at the joint. 

You give him a withering stare as you lean forward to nestle your head onto his scarf padded shoulder, your hands picking at a section of trim on the borrowed nightie.

"Why would I leave already?" he asks, free hand absentmindedly drawing up your side and playing with your nipple.

Your words catch in your throat slightly, "Everyone else did."

"I can't be angry at them," he states to your confusion before going on to explain, "Their loss was clearly my gain last night. What person would willingly leave you?" 

"I need you to be clear with me," you say, taking both of his hands in your own and sniffing back tears. "Was this a one time thing? Am I going to wake up and find you gone? I should have asked this before we fucked, I know, but that's on me. No obligations, no ties, no hard feelings. I need to know if you're in this for me and not just my body."

Sirius takes a moment to consider his answer. 

"It was a five time thing last night actually but ignoring that inaccuracy, honestly?" he gives out a short laugh as if slightly embarrassed to admit how he feels, "I don't want you to be just another one night stand. I want to find out what makes you laugh, and cry, and angry, and excited. I want to know you. I want to see where this leads us."

Sirius guides you onto your back, his whole body weight a comforting presence on yours as he uses the dip in your chest as a pillow.

"Now, I'm thinking, a little lie in until 9am, delivering Harry's gift, stealing some food from the kitchens, and tonight you can read that muggle book of yours to me," Sirius offers. 

You slide your hand through the mop of curls, gently massaging his scalp with your fingernails of one hand while he reaches his own hand to hold the other. You stay like this for a time, legs lazily tangling together, each just enjoying the other's presence until your clock hits 9am. 


	10. Chapter 10

Sirius groans at the chimes of the bell ringing out across the courtyard and drifting through the castle.

"No moving, just cosy," he mumbles, squeezing your hand in his.

Laughing, you roll yourself out from under him, "It's time to eat. And we have to give Harry his new broom." 

"We do!" he perks up. "I wrapped it already for the owl to take down."

"I'll take it with me when I go to the Owlery to drop off the kids' gifts," you say, grinning at how excited he is for his first Christmas out of Azkaban in 12 years. "I'll sit and watch him open it for you. I know it's not the same as watching him yourself." 

"He still thinks I killed his family. The whole school thinks I'm a murderer. I think your way is safer for all of us." 

"Soon," you sooth, running your thumb across his jawline. "We'll find a way to clear your name. You won't have to hide."

Standing to pull off your nightie you add, "I'll bring back some breakfast food for you. Any preference?" 

"Well I see someone I would really like to eat again," he winks. 

"Later," you promise, indulging in the slight blush you bring to his face as you pull a clean cardigan over your shoulders. 

"Those little chocolate croissants then?" he requests. "Reminds me of a trip I took to Paris one summer."

"Paris or _Paris_?" you say, raising an eyebrow. 

"Can't a man have some mysteries?" he smiles as he slips your robe snugly around you, pulling you closer for a kiss. "Don't be too long. I have plans!" 

The steps up to the Owlery are harardous at best, the wind whipping at your clothes as you make the climb, clutching a small bag to your side. The familiar hoots and squawks of the birds inside a welcome greeting. 

"Hello, babies," you coo, gently reaching out to pet a small brown Little Owl perched near the fire for warmth. 

"Liriope, has your wing healed? Hagrid has done some marvelous work I see." 

Pulling out a small bundle, you set it at the bird's feet before moving on. 

"Acanthus, for you to deliver please."

"Susan, if you could." 

"Aha, Hedwig. Just the girl I was looking for," you say, pulling out the gift wrapped broom and lying it at her taloned feet along with another small parcel. "Special delivery today. Make sure it gets to him safe for me?" 

Hedwig gives a small hoot in reply. She has never let you down before. 

After distributing all of the parcels for the kids you make your way back into the castle before the deliveries start. Taking your seat at the teacher's table you note Harry sitting with Hermione and Ron, the latter of whom was already 2 plates of toast and eggs into his breakfast. 

"Minnie, Happy Christmas!"

"And to you too, dear. I take it you dropped everything off on time?" 

"Yes, all ready to go!" you smile, heaping some eggs onto your plate along with some toast and black pudding.

Just before you can dig your fork in, the deliveries start to arrive. Swooping and swirling, the owl posties begin their deliveries. The Gryffindor table thumps as Hedwig drops the broom-shaped package in front of Harry, narrowly avoiding a bowl of beans.

A flurry of activity surrounds Harry as he unwraps his parcel.

"That's a Firebolt!" Ronald exclaims, mouth full of pastry. "That's meant to be the fastest broom ever made!" 

"Who do you think sent it?" Hermione questions. 

Harry looks up from the broom to the teachers' table. Finding Minerva slightly confused he twists back to his friends. 

"I don't know, but it must be for me if Hedwig delivered it."

"Could it be him? Sirius Black? Who knows what kind of _curses_ he's put on it?!" Hermione offers. 

"Why would he gift me a broom? He wants me dead, I don't think he's particularly interested in seeing me become a successful Gryffindor seeker," Harry quips. 

Hermione groans, "Harry. Have you forgotten?" 

Ron offers him a refresher. "Quidditch is one of the most dangerous games you could play. Not to mention first year when Quirrel was hexing your broom. Or second year when that bludger went out of control and tried to kill you. Or that time-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!"

Hermiones face softens, "Maybe we should ask Professor McGonagall to take a look at it. Just in case. You have to admit it is very suspicious. The Dementors coming that close to the grounds, you losing your broom, and now conveniently being handed a replacement?"

Harry agrees to check the broom with Minerva before going on to open his other parcel. Honeydukes sweets spill out of the little brown package, along with hand-knitted gloves and a little note from Minerva and yourself.

You try your best to put on a smile for the rest of breakfast. How will you break this to Sirius? He was so excited to know Harry's reaction. 

"I take it the broom was your idea?" Minerva smiles as she turns to face you. 

"Its not cursed. Promise. I can show you the receipt and everything! " 

"That's fine, I find it highly unlikely that Sirius Black would have been able to stroll into a shop in Hogsmead and walk out with a broom," she laughs. 

You laugh with her, "Yes, how ridiculous! Anyway, I must be off. Papers to mark, letters to write, people to see!" 

Hastily excusing yourself, you pull out a tupperware container, filling it to the brim with breakfast foods before making a retreat into the corridor and right into Remus. 

"Professor, we must stop meeting like this," he jokes, one hand on your forearm to steady you.

"Sorry, Remy," you laugh before he moves to step around you. "Oh! Would you like to have lunch with us later? My classroom."

Raising his eyebrow as he picks up on, " _Us_?"

"Yes. Just you, me, and a dog. I think he'd be happy to see you."

Remus breaks out in a grin, "Oh, so that's where he's been hiding. I see, I see."

"Lunch is at one, don't be late!"

Rounding the stairs and slipping through your classroom door you find your classroom transformed. Deep green conifer garlands, gold and red baubles, bells, and paper chains hang from almost every surface. In your armchair Sirius sits, wrapped up in his gifted blanket. A tea cup in his hands, a book laid out on the desk. His face screwed up in concentration.

"This is... Wow. Did _you_ do this? _How_ did you do this?" you let out a short laugh in wonderment. 

Sirius looks up from his tea cup, smiling as you spin slowly in place to take in the decorations. Slowly he crosses the room, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nuzzling kisses into the crook of your neck. 

"Don't tell anyone but transfiguration was one of my favourite subjects at school. Minerva has a way of making you want to learn and it definitely came in handy with the whole Animagus deal." 

"A man of many talents," you praise, smiling as you turn to kiss him. "I brought food." 

"I know, I can see you." 

"And I can see that you won't calm the fuck down long enough to have an intellectual conversation," you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck and placing lazy kisses across his face. 

Sirius groans as you press the length of your body against his, an arm wrapping around your waist and hands skimming your hips and arse. "I can multitask you know; use my _brain_ and my _head_ at the same time." 

"You have no business saying things like that before breakfast. Besides, we don't need to be naked to have a nice time. What were the leaves telling you?" you ask, nodding over to the forgotten cup on your desk.

"Oh you know, the usual. Tall, dark aquaintances in 3 to 5 business days." 

"Well maybe earlier than you thought! I invited Remus for lunch at one. Is that okay? I figured you would want to spend time with him too."

Sirius looked a little taken aback, "Yes, that's fine. But. I mean. He's my _ex_. Won't you be-? I don't know..." 

"Intimidated? Awkward?" you offer, to which he nods. "Remus and I are friends. Regardless of what you were with him, if you're comfortable with him being a friend then so am I. I invited him for lunch, not a _threesome_."

Sirius lets out a belt of laughter, slipping his hand through the hair at the front of your face, "Okay, okay. Remus and I have sailed passed that stage, we can't be repaired. Too much has passed between us and we're not the same people we were twelve years ago."

You press a kiss to the palm of his hand before holding up your bag, "I trust you. Now, let's eat before your stomach literally eats itself." 

When your bellies are full, Sirius moves to clear the breakfast plates. As he stands you hear a knock on your classroom door. 

"Professor?" the door creaks open slightly, obscured by the heavy tassled curtain. "It's Harry. Do you have time to talk?" 

"Of course, just a minute, sweetheart!" your voice shakes, rushing to the door to stop him entering too soon. 

Panicking, Sirius transforms into his dog form, jumping to hide under his blanket behind the desk. When the coast is clear you take a breath to calm yourself before opening the door wider.

"Harry. How can I help you today? Surely not doing homework during Christmas!" 

Harry shakes his head before thinking again and nodding, "I mean, of- _of course_ I'm doing Divination homework, but-" 

He stops stuttering as he sees your face slip into a grin and as you say, "Just kidding."

His face softens as he begins, "Professor McGonagall said the broom was your gift. You shouldn't have."

"Of course I should. We- _ **I**_ wanted you to have it. Especially after your other one was lost to the Whomping Willow. You show exceptional talent, Harry. It would be a sin to let it go to waste," you explain, hand ruffling his unruly hair. 

"I can't thank you enough. You know my aunt and uncle wouldn't have. They're pretty content to see me fail I think," Harry's face falls. 

" _Everyone_ at Hogwarts, especially myself, is immensely proud of you and the wizard you're turning out to be," you speak as honestly as you can. "Remember, you can visit me at any time, any issue."

Harry nods slightly before turning to the stairwell, "Thank you, Professor. I'll keep that in mind."

When he is out of sight you close over the door, placing a locking charm to avoid any further surprise visitors. 

"Sounds like he loves your gift, Sirius," you smile, stepping back to your desk.

You start to worry when there is no response. Reaching your hand out, you slowly pull the blanket from his now human form. 

"Oh, love," you sooth as he hides his eyes in his hands. 

Tears streaming down his cheeks and he whispers, "My boy. He should have been _my_ boy."

Crawling under the desk beside him, you cradle his head to your shoulder, your arms clutching him tightly as he sobs. 

"We'll get him. The rat. We'll make him pay. I promise," you say, kissing the words into the top of his head as a bubble of fury builds in the pit of your stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me ._.


	11. Chapter 11

"Okay, okay, but do you remember that time Prongs almost got us arrested?" Sirius laughs, legs slung over the arm of the armchair in front of the roaring fire. A clean dinner jacket slung over the backrest as he pulls up the sleeves of his shirt, a gift from Remus. 

"Probably not, we were more than likely drunk, but which time?" Remus smiles.

"...There was more than one time?" you grin, rolling your eyes, looking between the two. "Of course there was more than one time."

"The one where you were walking us all home from the bar and Prongs fell over the curb, transformed into a deer and started headbutting the lamppost because it was threatening him. I panicked, transformed into a dog trying to get him to calm down and as the muggle police drive up all they can see is you standing shouting for Padfoot and Prongs to a deer and a dog who were then both trying to get into the sidecar of a motorcycle."

"Ah, I do remember that one. Lily was so mad at the fact Prongs had bruises on his forehead for weeks. We had to ban him from drinking for a month," Remus chuckles.

* * *

"Okay, but hear me out, Beans," Sirius starts.

"Beans?" you groan, pointedly staring at Remus. 

"It slipped out, I'm sorry," Remus shrugs. "Your little kitten little toe beans are adorable though, you have to admit." 

"Yes, we know, they're perfect. _But_! Kiss McGonagall, Marry Severus, Kill Binns," Sirius says impatiently. 

"You can't kill Binns, he's already a ghost!" you cackle. 

"Exactly. He's the best choice," Remus agrees. 

Sirius sticks his hand up in the air in victory. 

You shake your head. "And Minnie, I get. **MILF** energy. But Sev?"

"I just think he would be a very tender lover, and I appreciate that," Sirius adds, tipping his glass of firewhisky towards you. "You can't deny-" 

"He is a soft boy, I know," you admit, downing the dregs of whisky in your glass and standing to refill it. 

"How about this one though?" Remus pipes up. "Kiss, Fuck, Marry. Flitwick." 

"And?" Sirius laughs. 

"That's it, just Flitwick. Ultimate triple threat." 

Collective groans from you and Sirius ring out as Remus spends the next 5 minutes trying to validate his reasoning. When Sirius pulls you down by the waist to sit on his lap, Remus doesn't even bat an eye. 

"And that's why I would trust Flitwick with my dick _and_ my heart," Remus says plainly. 

Sirius clutches his chest, "The love story of the century!" 

"Hey, no discrimination in this house, _Pads_ ," you try to scold him in between giggles. "I think it's lovely, and I for one will be doing my best to see you two together by the end of the year." 

The bells ring out from the clock tower, signalling the start of dinner. 

"Have we just day-drunk our way to dinner time?" Remus laughs. 

Pressing a kiss to Sirius' lips you stand to put your glass aside.

"Go on, bring me back some pigs in blankets. If you don't, you can't come back," Sirius jokes, swirling the translucent caramel liquid in his glass. 

"Presumptuous of you to think I won't have stolen them all from the plates of hungry kids to fuel my own addiction," you grin, pulling your arms into your robes and pushing a slightly tipsy Remus towards the door.

"Later, honey!" you and Remus call out from the door, giggling as you descend the stairs together. 

* * *

Reaching the open doors of the Great Hall, you take a look at the teacher's table. The only spaces between Hagrid and Flitwick or Minerva and Septima of Arithmancy.

You both start a dash to the table, a little pushing and shoving as Remus firmly fits himself into the chair between Hagrid and Flitwick, leaving you to your fate beside Minerva. Sitting down in the chair, you pull yourself in, shovelling mashed potatoes into your mouth in an attempt at masking the smell of alcohol and hopefully preventing Minerva from asking questions you would have to open your mouth to answer. 

"Hungry are we?" Minerva smiles, taking a wide eyed look at you scooping up your 5th spoonful of potato.

"Mmh," you garble, lips turning up in some semblance of a smile as you glance across the table to see Remus staring at you with a shit eating grin, picking up a little ball of stuffing with his fork. 

"Five spoons?" Septima smiles. "That's very apt for you."

You stab off a slice of turkey, turning to the Arithmancy professor, "You have, the most beautiful eyes. Thank you for existing."

Septima chuckles as you wink at her before delving back into your plate of food.

"If only I were on the same life path," she smiles, sliding some apple sauce onto her plate. 

* * *

Having successfully fooled everyone during dinner and after packing up some food for Sirius into your tupperware container, you make your way back up the stairs. Ironically you felt considerably less drunk upon your return after the food had lined your stomach.

You opened the door to Sirius snoozing in the chair you left him in, blanket tucked up to his neck. He startles slightly at the creak of the door before seeing your face and relaxing. 

"I brought the good stuff," you smile, holding up your little plastic box. 

"You may enter." 

"Sorry to wake you, you can go back to your nap," you soothe, taking a seat on his lap and brushing the hair from his face. 

He picks off the lid of the tupperware box and opens his mouth. 

Laughing, you pick up a coveted bacon wrapped sausage with a fork and feed him as his arms wrap loosely around you. 

Thinking back to lunch you mumble, "I think Remy had fun." 

"Yeah, it was nice to reminisce a bit," he says, taking the fork into his own hands, frustrated at your slow pace forcing him to chew the food and not inhale it, piling some mashed potato into his mouth. 

After demolishing the contents of your lunchbox, Sirius pulls you under the blanket, soft kisses on your cheek lulling you off to nap in a food induced coma. 


	12. Chapter 12

Opening your eyes, you're met with Sirius smiling away as he strokes your hair back, quietly cradling you to him.

"Aah, they awaken!" 

"How long have you been sitting staring at me?"

"At least one second, if not more."

"Ooh, the accuracy," you laugh as he leans over to give you sweet kisses. 

Kisses deepen into moans and soft gasps with wandering hands until you find yourself dragging him to bed by the belt. There is surprise in his eyes as you push him back onto the bed, deft fingers making quick work of his shirt buttons and belt buckle before stripping off your own bottom half to straddle his thighs. 

"This okay?" you ask, making sure you have permission before reaching your hand down to stroke his length.

He answers to your touch in a series of moans. Grasping and reaching hands making sure you're not left out. You're both a hot mess before he even gets close to entering you, the slick sensation of him filling you up as you lower yourself down is almost enough to push you to the edge. Going at your own pace is hard enough without the feeling of his hands in your hair and running over your chest and thighs as you ride him but he sounds as if he enjoys the view. 

"You like that, _pup_?" you tease in a soft voice. 

"Talented kitty," he smirks, moaning deeply as you grind your hips again. 

When breaths become fast, laboured, and heavy, you start placing kisses slowly up his body with a series of licks and nips, thoroughly enjoying his every twitch inside you. 

Your knees crawl up the sides of his torso and he makes sure to put his own lips to good use, pressing you into him with hands firmly on your arse. Every twitch of your thighs seem to earn you a spank as you twist a hand through the curls of his hair, the other grasping a bedpost for dear life against the unrelenting pace of his talented tongue and the vibrations of his deep voiced groans. 

As the orgasm shakes through you, muscles contracting deliciously and toes curling, he doesn't waste time in taking advantage of your position. With knees apart on the mattress, you hang onto the headboard. Having quickly changed condoms, he enters your dripping wet heat with agonising slowness. 

He anchors his hands on either side of your hips as he starts to set a punishing pace, placing kisses across your neck and shoulder blade as you arch your back. You reach a hand behind you to hold onto the back of his head as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his groans of pleasure buzzing through you. 

" _Fuck_ ," is all you manage to breathe before you clench down, riding the waves of pleasure that build as he continues to thrust before he himself cums.

As you catch your breath, you turn to face him, kissing him deeply as he murmurs ' _thank you_ ' over and over again with each kiss.

As you get ready for bed you notice his sweet affectionate glances, small touches of his hand at your back as you finish brushing your teeth and slipping on your nightie. 

"The pink one again?" you smile, watching Sirius try to fit his broad chest into your old nightie. "Remus brought you some stuff that should fit better." 

"I like _this_ one," he pouts. "Smells like you." 

" _It's too early to be catching feelings like this. You're not going to say the 'L' word, You are NOT going to say the 'L' word. Your hormones are betraying you. It was just sex. Really satisfying sex_ ," you think to yourself. 

"You okay?" Sirius asks with a frown. "I can take it off again if you want me to." 

He waggles his eyebrows at you, flirting again. 

"It suits you," you giggle. "Keep it." 

Placing a kiss to your forehead he moves to pick up the book he gifted you.

"Read for me?" 

"Of course," you answer, smiling as he gets under your duvet and holds a corner open for you. 

As he tucks you into the crook of his arm, you hold the book in one hand with him holding the other edge, making sure he can see all of the little illustrations. Your head rests on his chest as your free hand explores the ridges of his knuckles. 

"It's a funny thing about mothers and fathers," you start. "Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful." 

"Can't say I've noticed," Sirius comments. 

"Me neither, love. Me neither," you reply, giving his hand a squeeze before you continue to read.

* * *

"New Year, New Me," Sirius toasts, the radio in the background beginning to countdown from 10.

"New Year, Same Old Me!" you reply. "I acknowledge my faults and admit that I am human enough to correct them in my own time, not because an arbitrary date tells me so."

"Woo!" Sirius cheers as the radio announces the start of the New Year, pulling you close and leaning into a deep kiss. 

When you let out a moan, Sirius pulls back very satisfied with himself. 

Seeing your expression he decides to reveal his plan, smirking, "I bet myself that the first thing from your lips this year would be caused by me."

"Ooh, what did you win?" you giggle as he twirls you around to the music. 

Taking one hand in his own with the other hand resting on the small of your back, he leads you in a small waltz around the empty classroom. 

"The task and the prize were one and the same."

* * *

The end of the Christmas holidays is perhaps the saddest you've experienced. In previous years you would be so happy to get back to teaching your little horrors but now the holidays signal the end of an albeit brief but ultimately happy moment of your life. 

As darkness falls on the night before the kids return, you find yourself straightening Sirius' jacket for the 5th time in as many minutes. 

"Blanket?" you ask before he holds up the bag you packed and repacked throughout the day. 

"Its all in there, you checked already," he soothes, putting the bag down to wrap his arms around your shoulders.

"Remember to drink the tea I made. It's a Muggle thermos but it should last a few hours," you fuss. "Remus and I will take turns visiting when we can get away, at the weekends mostly."

_Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't-_

"You want me to just rip the plaster off for you?" he offers. 

"Please. I might just end up keeping you here if you don't," you reply with a short, humourless laugh. 

Slinging the bag and a leg over the windowsill in your bedroom he takes your chin in his hand, tilting your head up to meet his in a kiss before squishing your cheeks together making your lips look like a fish. With a snicker he lets go, a little salute and he's gone completely through the window. 


	13. Chapter 13

"The Marauders' Map?" you ask Sirius, Remus spreading it out on the floor of the Shack in front of you both.

"We made it, you see. Turns out Harry had it this whole time, was using it to sneak out to Hogsmeade of all places." Remus explains, lifting his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

As the tip of his wand touches the blank parchment, bursts of ink spill out over the page. Names and footsteps moving between rooms and through hallways.

"Do you really think Pettigrew would show up on this?" you ask, eyes skimming the inky castle grounds.

"It shows everyone. If he's here, we'll find him," Sirius growls. "And when I do, the _murderer_ rumours will finally be true."

* * *

"Your mind needs breaks and rest too, Hermione!" you fuss, the young witch sat in the armchair in front of your classroom desk. 

"My mind needs knowledge!" she shouts. "I just need to know, did Crookshanks try to eat Scabbers the other day?" 

Sighing, you flip your coin. 

"Yes," you state, flipping it a second time. "But he wasn't wrong to do so."

"What does that even mean?" she groans, head thumping down onto her crossed arms on the desk. 

_That Scabbers is a fucking rat in more ways than one._

"I wouldn't worry about it. Scabbers is crafty," you smile. "Now, about your homework. I can give you all of the assignments for the rest of the year if you want to do them at your own pace and hand them in as we go along. Alternatively, you can pick a week to cram study with me and I can give you an early end of year exam, our little secret. It'll give you free time for your other subjects in the long run."

"Early exams would be great!" she beams. "I'll still visit at lunch but not having to come to class would give me extra time for Ancient Runes and to get extra time with Potions." 

"Okay, which week would be best?" 

"Can we start today?" she laughs. 

By the time Gryffindor beats Ravenclaw in the latest Quidditch match, Hermione has already passed the end of year Divination exam with flying colours.

* * *

Sirius is getting increasingly bored with his living arrangement. This much is true to anyone who bears witness to his constant pacing and brooding, occasionally pouring over the map in his search for the rat. 

Immediately accosted as you stroll into the dilapidated remains of a living room, you can tell his pent up energy is begging for an outlet.

"Baby," he moans in your ear, arms wrapped around you from behind as he pulls you closer. "I _want_ to." 

"We can't!" you laugh, making a half hearted attempt to dodge the barrage of kisses he runs down your neck. 

"Please?" he groans. "Just this once?" 

"No, I already told you," you manage to say through bouts of laughter. "We cannot prank Remus and Severus. No matter how funny it would be to trick them into drinking Polyjuice and swapping bodies."

"You ruin all of my fun," Sirius jokes, hands wandering over your body. 

"It's for your own good, love," you smile as your turn in his arms to face him. "Did you hear? Harry won the GryffinClaw game on the broom you got him. It's adorable how much he loves that thing."

Sirius beams with pride at his Godson, "He's James' boy, of course he's a prodigy."

"What do you think you'll do? When you're free, no need to hide in this place anymore."

"I'd like to adopt him off of those ghastly Muggle relatives of his. No offence to Lily. If he'll have me that is..."

"I think, once he knows the truth he will be very proud at how brave you've been this whole time. I know I am exceptionally proud of you." 

Sirius laughs, "Well you have to be, you're my _partner_!" 

Smirking you lean in to press your lips to his, "I see. In crime?" 

"And out of it. If you want," he stumbles through his words. 

"Oh. Well actually, I'm already in love with another," you apologise, face falling. 

"I can fight him to the death if you want."

" _Her_."

"Oh really?"

"I'm sorry, darling," you soothe. "She already owns my heart." 

"Well good thing I was just joking because otherwise that would have been really embarrassing," Sirius gives a hurt laugh, patting you on the shoulder like an awkward aquaintance who's name he's forgotten over the years. 

"Yeah," you nod. "Thank Merlin! If Minnie knew I was going behind her back like this I'd never get to see her kitty again!"

"Of course, of course!" Sirius replies, eyebrow furrowing, not quite hearing your words. 

"So, erm. I'll get going then. Can't miss our weekly strap night again!" you quip, taking a step backwards towards the door. 

"Oh, yeah, no problem. I'll just be here. Hanging around. Have fun!" he murmurs.

"You too! Wear a glove, for variety maybe..." you wave a hand in a jerking off motion, trying your best to keep your apologetic expression. 

"You're fucking with me, aren't you?" 

"Well I have been, but y'know, strap night with my gal Minnie..." you grin. "Yes. _Of course_ I'm fucking around with you, Minnie is so far out of my league we don't even share the same solar- _mmph_?!" 

Sirius' kisses interrupt your words, one hand pulling gently on the hair at the back of your head to better angle your face to his as the other hand traces a sinful path down your body. 

He delights in the noises you make as his hand gets to work between your thighs. Both of your arms are clamped over his shoulders, making sure his lips don't stray far from yours and desperately trying to hold yourself upright when all your knees wish to do is buckle. 

" _Fuck_ , I love you," he groans, watching and feeling you come apart in his hands.

The sounds his voice makes as he voices those words sends you completely over the edge again, giving new meaning to the Shrieking Shack.


	14. Chapter 14

"Do you all know your tasks?" you ask the 3rd year class, finally having their first exam that could take place after the events of the last two years. "Crystal ball, tea leaves, and the tarot cards. Build me a picture of the future shown and tie all three elements together. You have an hour and a half, good luck!"

You flip over the glass timer to signal the start of the exam, moving to sit in your usual armchair. 

* * *

"Did he pass?" Sirius picks up his head from the map in front of him. 

"He passed. Barely. That boy is oblivious to the signs around him," you laugh, moving to sit beside Sirius on the floor. "Where's he going at this time?" 

You watch as Harry, Ron, and Hermione move off of the page. When those three are together, trouble always follows. Unfolding the map to follow their path, you gasp at the name hovering inside Hagrid's hut. 

"Sirius. Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" 

Wordlessly, Sirius' eyes follow your finger down to the name. _Peter Pettigrew_.

With a growl he takes a leap to the door, the black dog making its way down the stairs as you try to keep up behind him. 

"We need to be tactical! You can't just go running into Hagrid's without a plan! ' _Hey, I need that rat, he's a murderer_ ' might not cut it," you call out after him. "At least let us get Remus for backup?" 

Clearly ignoring you, the dog scrambles it's way out of the exit at the Whomping Willow. Following him down to the hut, you both watch as Harry, Ron, and Hermione peer out of the back door. The Headmaster, Minister Fudge, and an executioner approaching from the main path to the front door. 

Waiting until the later trio make their way into the hut, you appear out of the treeline. 

"Professor?" Ron murmurs from behind the pumpkin patch. 

Bowing deeply to Buckbeak you're allowed to approach, slowly leading the Hippogriff away from inevitable death and into the treeline of the forest. Looking around you realise you can't see Sirius, or the three kids. A trail of screaming is the only hint you have as to their direction. 

"That man is going to be the absolute death of me," you groan, leading Buckbeak through the forest to the source of the sounds, leaving him with some food at the edge of the forest and hoping he will be safe enough to stay put. 

"Kids?" you shout and you climb the stairs, noting the trail of blood droplets on the dusty wood. 

Reaching the source of the screaming, you see Sirius hovering in the corner of the room, covered in muck from his dive through the tree and forest. Harry and Hermione stand in front of Ron who sits screaming about the Grim, clutching his leg in one hand and ' _Scabbers_ ' in the other. 

"Professor! Professor it's him!" Ron screeches when he finds you standing in the doorway. 

"What in Merlin's name happened to you?" you ask Ron, moving to take a look at his leg while giving Sirius a look behind your shoulder.

"I didn't have hands! I may have bit him by accident-"

" _Accident_?! He attacked me Professor!" Ron's voice squeaks.

"I'm my defence, I was aiming for the rat!" Sirius gestures to the rat struggling to break free from Ron's grip. 

"Ron, give me the rat. Harry, Hermione. You stay back here with Ron, okay?" you request, lowering Harry's wand with your hand. 

"He killed my parents!" 

"What? He can't have my rat!"

A crashing noise sounds off behind you as Remus makes his way up the stairs. 

"I'm not a murderer, but tonight that changes. Hand over the rat!" Sirius demands.

Making shushing signals with your hands to Sirius, you turn back to face Harry. 

"This is going to sound wild but I need you to listen. Comments and questions at the end, okay?" 

He nods slowly in reply. 

"Sirius didn't murder your parents. Peter Pettigrew did. Your parents trusted him, just as they had done with Remus and Sirius. Pettiigrew cut off his own finger, killed twelve Muggles and escaped after pinning everything on Sirius," you explain. "Pettigrew is an animagus, Harry. Unregistered, he has hidden scurried away in plain sight. Right there. In Ron's hands."

"What?" Ron balks. "Scabbers has been in my family for..." 

"Twelve years," you state. "Mysteriously also missing a toe on one foot."

Ron gulps hard. 

"I tell you what, give him to me and we'll show you. If he stays as Scabbers, you have my permission to do as you want with Sirius," you negotiate. 

" _Thanks, love_ ," Sirius says, taking a slight offence to you offering him away.

"Deal," Harry nods. "Ron, hand over the rat." 

Taking the squealing rat out of Ron's hands, you pass it over to Remus who deftly undoes the transformation, leaving a buck toothed man in the rat's place.

"Remus! Sirius! My old friends!" he croons before trying to wiggle his way out of Remus' grasp.

"You fucker! I'm going to enjoy watching you die, you piece of shit!" Sirius yells, wand drawn and advancing towards him.

"Don't!" you cry out, hand on his chest to stop him from getting closer. "He's more useful alive. For the moment at least."

"I knew you were all in league with him!" Severus announces his arrival from behind Remus, making everyone jump out of their skin for a second. 

"Oh, Severus, it's just you! You're a little late. We have things handled. Can you escort the kids back to the castle? We need to get Dumbledore or McGonagall to request Aurors from the Ministry," Remus smiles, holding Pettigrew by the scruff of the neck. 

Snape looks on at the scene in confusion before snapping his fingers at the children to get them to leave. 

Remus follows behind, dragging Pettigrew beside him through the tunnels with yourself and Sirius bringing up the rear. 

"We need to get the kids back to the castle, and quickly," you address Severus, pushing all 3 of the troublemakers in his direction. "Go now, we'll handle things. Go!" 

Severus nods, taking a pointed look at Remus before moving to lift Ron up by his jumper. 

"Remus, give him over. You have to go back to the shack. Beans will keep you company," Sirius notes, gesturing over to you as he watches the clouds begin to part. 

Everything happens so quickly after that. 


	15. Chapter 15

Growling and snarling, the werewolf in front of you lunges with sharp teeth snapping. Sirius lets go of Pettigrew, shoving you back out of the way before being swiped away himself by the werewolf's heavy arm.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Pettigrew taking one glance at the werewolf before moving to scrabble away.

"Petrificus totalus!" you yell, Pettigrew falling to the grass floor in a thump.

Sirius, now in his Grim form, snaps at the werewolf's leg before being thrown further into the forest and beyond. The werewolf gives chase, attempting to rip lumps out of the poor dog. Once the werewolf has moved further into the forest, preoccupied with Sirius, you drag the petrified Pettigrew by the ankles over the castle grounds, making sure his head thumps against every step on the way up. 

* * *

"I think you'll find the rat useful in your investigation into the _Potter murders_ , Minister," you state, Pettigrew laying prone on the stone floor of Dumbledore's office.

"Well there will have to be an official enquiry, you see. And Black will have to be found and detained until the truth is uncovered."

"Severus has a stock of veritaserum in his potions stock cupboard. Surely exceptions could be made for a full confession," you plead.

"Very well, if he confesses I'll see what I can do. Alastor presiding as witness," Fudge replies, nodding to Severus to authorise the potion.

* * *

"Pads! Pads! They got him!" you mewl, you cat toe beans feeling a path through the pine trees as you leap through the forest in the direction he and the werewolf had set off in. 

Black shapes swarm around a figure lying motionless on the ground in the clearing in front of you.

"Sirius?" you yell, transforming back to your human form as you step slowly closer. 

Dementors block out the moonlight, ghoulishly groaning as they dive down towards him, each taking a sliver of his life with every pass. 

Bands of white light eminate from the tip of your wand, your Patronus forming to sweep away the darkness. 

" _Sirius_ ," you murmur, dropping down in the pebbled beside his body, shaking him violently.

A small blue orb sparkles above his lips, slowly ascending towards the heavens. 

"Fuck! Fuck! _Fuck_! How did the song go?!" you panic.

The irony was not lost on you as you hum the tune to _Staying Alive_ while pressing down as hard as you can on the centre of his chest. 

"Sirius Orion Black, you better get the fuck back into your body before I kill you myself!" you yell, giving up on CPR and slamming your fists into his chest in frustration. 

You watch as the orb descends, Sirius taking a deep breath in before falling back into rhythm. 

"That's what I fucking thought, you git!"

"Baby?" he croaks, confused. "Did you just death threat me to back to life?" 

"Maybe," you whisper, breaths coming to you faster and faster. "It worked though." 

Sirius takes your hand in his as he attempts to sit up and fails. 

"Can't believe you'd kiss so many other creatures after you just confirmed our relationship status," you laugh, chest constricting as you roll through the panic attack. 

"Gotta have a good bachelor party before signing my life away," he snickers, pulling you down to rest your head on his chest. 

Your breathing calms as you find yourself matching the soft whooshing sounds of Sirius' own breaths.

"Bachelor parties are for marriages," you murmur. "I hope you got that one special Dementor in your life a nice ring."

"Antique heirloom quality," he smiles. 

* * *

"You're very lucky you have such a _persistent_ friend, Black," Fudge addresses Sirius as he lies tucked neatly into the hospital bed sheets with Matron Pomfrey fussing over him. "We will see you tomorrow at the hearing."

When Fudge leaves, Ron feels gallant enough to speak. 

"Look at my leg! You couldn't have been a bit gentler?" he moans. 

"I didn't have hands. Sorry, mate. Am I in the _doghouse_?" 

Ron groans as Harry and Hermione grin from their chairs next to his bed. 

"It was very _ruff_ of you to snatch him in the first place," you smirk, standing up from your chair, moving to the door. 

" _Howl_ will I ever make it up to you, Ronald?" 

* * *

The werewolf is curled up in the corner of a room in the shack, whining to itself in pain as you approach it in your little black cat form. 

"They got him. He confessed. Moody and Fudge escorted him away personally. Sirius' acquittal is practically guaranteed from his official trial tomorrow," you say in a series of yowls, watching the werewolf's bleak expression. "Sirius is fine. You gave him a good few swipes but nothing Matron couldn't fix. The Dementors gave us more of a scare to be honest."

Taking little steps, you sit curled up against the werewolf's chest, noting how its breathing evens out as your paws massage its arm, "Ron's very disappointed that he's stuck right across from him. There's only so many grim dog jokes Sirius can make before he finds his lips hexed shut."

"You can relax, big guy. You did so well today. I'm so proud of you for coming back here by yourself," you smush your cheek into the werewolf's face as he lets out a howl that shakes your bones.


	16. Chapter 16

Sirius becomes increasingly skittish as you approach the Ministry. Even though you placed a glamour charm on his face to make him less recognisable, he still looks around for eyes that stay on him a little too long. 

"We're here to get you acquitted. They won't take you away," you try to reassure him, hand gripping his arm. 

He scoffs, having every reason to be wary of the people who locked him away without a second thought 12 years ago.

"If they try anything, I'll hex our way out and go on the run with you," your words having no noticeable effect on the coiled spring of a man beside you.

"Harry will be there too," you add. "We can ask about the legal guardianship process later on if you'd like." 

"Love, I know you're trying to make me feel better but I can't focus on anything until this trial-" 

"Hearing!" 

"- _hearing_ is over and done with," he sighs in frustration. 

"It's okay," you apologise. "We can talk later." 

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders he pulls you closer into his side, placing a kiss to the top of your head to let you know he isn't angry with you, merely stressed at the situation. 

* * *

"We have all heard the confession of one Peter Pettigrew of The Burrow, Ottery Saint Catchpole, Devon. With this confession we see it fit to extend our sincerest apologies to you, Mr Black, and I speak for us all when we wish you every success in any future exploits," Dumbledore states in his role as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. 

Remus clings to your left arm as you grip his forearm. Harry sits next to you in the visitor's section of the court room, one hand clasped tightly in yours with the other taken by Minerva as you listen closely to the words Sirius should have received when he was younger.

"This court hereby finds Sirius Orion Black of 12 Grimmauld Place, Islington, London, _not guilty_ and _cleared_ of all charges," Dumbledore states with a single smack of the wooden gavel to his podium.

The visitors section, largely filled with those looking for entertainment than justice, erupts into a mixture of cheering and jeering. You look to Harry, swiping away tears from his eyes as he regains a family member once thought lost forever. He pulls you into a hug as he sees your face, tears streaming as Sirius finally finds his feet to stand up from the chair in the centre of the room, an incredulous look on his face as he turns to face you both. 

The Minister of Magic packs his documents into his briefcase and swiftly exits the courtroom followed by other members of the Wizengamot, Dumbledore leaving last to the sound of flashbulbs and camera shutters as the reporters begin crawling out of their seats in a mob. 

Sirius disappears from sight as you're quickly swamped from all sides. Minerva beats them back as best she can with looks of contempt and natural air of authority with you shielding Harry with your whole body from the barrage of questioning about what his parents would think about it all. Remus moves into the space between Harry and Minerva trying to support them both. 

"I think it's time for us to leave, dearies," Minerva concludes, attempting to make space for your escape. 

"Do you want to piss off?" you shout, angrily shoving quills, notepads, and cameras out of Harry's face while simultaneously trying to stop them from crowding Remus. 

"No offense darl', but we ain't 'ere for you," a man scoffs, a tuft of hair heroically clinging to the leftmost side of his head when all other hairs had perished. "Who even are you anyway?" 

"That's my wife!" Sirius laughs, pushing his way through the crowd to grasp your face, pulling your lips down to his and taking great delight in your startled expression. Murmuring to you he adds, "And my wife's wife, and our two kids."

With a snicker, you quickly clamber over the barrier with Harry, Remus, and Minerva in tow. 

"I think it's high time we blew this popsicle stand," he smirks, pushing all of you to the exit doors. 

* * *

"Remus and I will escort Mr Potter back to Hogwarts. We will let everyone know you should return in time for dinner," Minerva states as Remus pulls Sirius in for a hug. 

"Minnie, it's 10am," you laugh. "We'll be back by lunch."

"Take your time, dear," Minerva smiles, glancing conspiratorially between you and Sirius before bundling Harry and Remus away to the Floo network.

"So the Department for Magical Law Enforcement is on Level Two. Do you want to go and see what they can do about getting Harry back from the Dursleys?" 

"They probably won't sign him over to me, love," Sirius chuckles. "Plus, we still have to ask him if that's what he actually wants." 

"It can't hurt to ask," you smile, tugging him by the hand towards the elevators. "If there's no hope then we can leave. There's no point asking Harry if it's not even possible."

"Okay, okay, I fold! You win." 

"If you don't want to, we can go home," you offer. 

"I want to! Lead the way!" he grins, pushing you along to the elevators. 

* * *

The Administration room is piled high with documents and dossiers lining the walls, spilling papers overflowing. With organisation like this you aren't surprised at how long everything takes to be actioned. 

"Aren't you that Sirius Black fellow? The one that had the hearing earlier?" the admin witch questions. 

"Yes. That would be me. Why? Is that an issue?" 

"He was cleared of all charges, it shouldn't be," you add. 

"No, no, of course not. It can take some time for the paperwork to come through for that which can delay things a little more than you might like. Here's the guardianship package with everything you need to include. Relinquishing of guardianship paperwork for the current guardians. Resume for academic achievements, previous and current employments. Declaration of convictions, upheld and suspended only. You will need to include the certificate for any cleared charges if you've been imprisoned for any length of time. Three references each for you and your wife from reputable sources, the list of which are included on page One-Three-Five. The quicker we get it back the better. I can't guarantee a processing time."

"We're not married," you correct them. "It would just be Sirius on the form."

"That's not what the Prophet is saying," the witch grins, pulling a newspaper from under a stack of papers which tumble across the floor before slapping the headline down in front of you. 

_'Aquitted Mass Murderer Sirius Black's Secret Wife Revealed: an exclusive tale by Rita Skeeter.'_

A picture of you, eyebrows furrowing as you push the camera away shows front and centre. A smaller picture of a beaming Sirius pulling you down into a kiss shows near the bottom right of the page.

"Well at least it has the word ' _aquitted_ ' in the title," Sirius smirks. "Can I have this?" 

"You're welcome to it, I finished the Cryptid Crossword earlier anyway." 

"How did they get that to print so fast?" you ask in disbelief. 


	17. Chapter 17

"The bureaucracy is astounding," you sigh, flipping to page 135 of the guardianship papers. "Only one of each group may be considered a character witness?"

"I'll ask the Dementors if they'll write me one but I highly doubt they would," Sirius adds.

"If we get Dumbledore as one then we can always get Minnie as your second. Dumbledore counts as a Ministry figure with Minnie as a Professor. The third one might be a little bit harder," you admit.

"A professional character witness from the last five years who has known you personally for two years? Oh yeah. They're growing on trees in Azkaban, love."

With a deep sigh, you fling the papers on a pile to the floor. 

"It's _almost_ as if they don't want previously convicted criminals to be able to adopt children," he smirks, flopping back on the bed beside you, clearly finding it harder than usual to use humor to cover up how hurt he is. 

"This is bullshit!" you groan. " _I'd_ write it if I could." 

"Well there's an idea," he perks up, arms sliding around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder. 

"I don't count. I'm a Professor like Minnie and I haven't known you for 2 years. Maybe if you wait another year or so. You could still get him before his 17th birthday that way."

"Or. Hear me out here," he starts. "You could apply. If you wanted to, of course. Teenagers are a lot of work, and you probably have a lot going on, and you're young enough to not want a kid to take care of, and-" 

"I'll do it," you blurt out. "I thought you wanted him as you own, but I'll do it if it gets him away from those awful people." 

"I mean, he'd be _ours_ , in time. But you'd do it? You'd apply?"

"Yes. If that's what he wants, I'd do it for him," you state, resolutely. "One of my kids becoming my literal kid. I can do that. Who would be my third reference though?" 

"We can figure that out later. Can we ask him? Please?" he bounces excitedly on his knees, the mattress turning into a rollercoaster. " _Please_?" 

"Okay, okay! He's in a Transfiguration exam until 4pm but we can catch him at dinner," you laugh. "Have patience." 

"Who's that? Are they taller than you?" he grins while you roll your eyes at his silly jokes and turn in his arms to straddle his lap. 

"So, how does it feel to be a free man? Not that you'd know much about freedom, you're still here in my dorm regardless," you apologise. 

"There's plenty of time for travel. I have everything I want right here," he winks, his hands roaming down your belly and under the waistband of your jeans while he kisses up the bare skin of your neck. 

"So no records? No motorbike? No food then?" you tease.

"I can eat out regardless," he notes, gentle kisses turning rough when he leans you back onto the duvet. 

"I'm telling the croissants you're cheating on them," you say, indulging in the way he takes a less than careful approach to yanking your jeans off and tossing them to the floor before settling between your legs, hip to hip. 

"I'm not taking slander from someone who has _frogs_ printed on their socks," he laughs, waiting patiently as you rip them off of your feet and chuck them into the furthest corner of your dorm. "Okay, now you're good to go." 

"You are such a _git_ ," you grin, back arching up from the bed as his fingers get to work, slow circles and languid strokes up your slit making your breath catch when finally put his tongue to good use. 

He knows you so well by now, leaving you hanging on the edge when you shiver in anticipation of touches that don't come. Not one to be outdone, your own hands get to work. One hand cupping his balls as the other works up and down, grip pressure pulsing as he gets harder to the touch. Your eyes lock with his as you slide the flat of your tongue up his length, lips closing flush around the shaft as you take him into your mouth. Sirius controls your speed and depth with a hand gripped at the back of your head, groaning at the sight of you looking up at him with your mouth full, the vibrations of your muffled moaning only adding to his pleasure. 

After rolling on the condom, you find yourself being pushed back onto the bed by his hand cupping your jaw, making your appreciation known loudly as he slowly slips his length into your dripping wet pussy. He starts at a slow pace, getting rougher as your moans get higher and faster. Holding yourself to him with an arm around his neck, you kiss and nip your way down his neck and shoulder

" _Harder, baby, please_ ," you plead with him, his rumbling groans of arousal at your request sounding in your ear.

His hands never stop, one reaching down between you both to rub your clit in ways that make your eyes roll back as the other takes great delight in gripping your breasts while his tongue and lips lick and pinch at your nipples. 

"Oh _fuck_ ," he grunts, so close to tipping over the edge while his fingertips grip into your hips as he thrusts. 

Your pussy tightens around his length as you cum, wave after wave of shivers down your spine as he cums with you, your legs twitching in overstimulation by the time he pulls out. 

"Let me know when you're ready to go again, love," he requests, leaning back to lay beside you in a contented, sweaty mess and wrapping an arm around your shoulders when you curl into his side, lazily kissing him as you both catch your breath. 

* * *

"Are you sure you won't come to sit in the Hall for dinner? I don't like the thought of you feeling trapped or obligated to stay up here."

"I'm sure, I like it here anyway," Sirius states, sitting in the armchair behind your desk.

"I'll bring Harry back so you can talk," you promise, leaning down for a kiss. "If you change your mind about the Hall, you know where it is." 

"Yes, yes, now on you go! You'll be late," he smiles, slapping your arse as you turn to leave.

Practically skipping down the stairs of the North Tower, you quickly make your way up to the Professor's table, taking one of the last spots between Remus and Minnie.

"Sirius not joining us?" Remus asks as you sit down. 

"No," you sigh. "Understandable considering the whole castle had him pegged as a murderer not two days ago. I wouldn't want to face the kids either... Speaking of kids, we're going to talk with Harry later-" 

"Would he take your name, dear?" Minnie questions from beside you.

"Why would he take my name?"

"Aah, traditional, indeed," she nods. "Don't forget to submit your paperwork to the Headmaster so we can amend your details in that case." 

"Wait, what?" you ask her, confused. "How did you know? Sirius and I were literally _just_ talking about it. "

"I was there, dear," she beams. "I heard the whole thing, or did you forget already." 

Thinking back, you try to remember seeing Minnie - human or cat- in the dorm while you spoke about adopting Harry. 

"I'm pretty sure you weren't," you apologise. 

"At the Ministry, he called you his _wife_! Remus, dear, you remember don't you?" Minerva asks, eyebrows raised as if concerned you'd had your memory wiped. 

Confused, you start to laugh, "No he didn't."

"He did," Remus grins. "' _That's my wife_!' he said before gallantly sweeping us all away."

"It's been less than 9 months since we met, Remy, I highly doubt he said that," you smirk. 

"What did you think I was talking about?" Minerva asks, sounding saddened by the news. 

"Well, Sirius wanted to get legal guardianship for Harry but there's a bunch of stupid hoops to jump through that makes it impossible for him to do it," you explain. "So, I said that I'd do it. If Harry agrees of course. And then there's the references I'd need."

"So you're not marrying the man, just adopting his Godson?" Minerva concludes. 

"... Yes?" 

Minerva takes a long look at you before looking back at Remus and sighing deeply in exasperation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minerva by the end of this chapter: This bitch is a simp.


	18. Chapter 18

"So, what do you think?" Sirius asks Harry as he sits across from you both in your classroom.

"You can tell us if you don't want that. It was just a thought," you stammer, worried that you've pushed everything onto him too fast.

"You're telling me that I don't have to go back to the Dursleys, I'll be with the person my parents actually wanted me to be with, and to top it all off Snape will have to put up with me or face your wrath?" Harry grins.

"I mean, Professor Snape faces my wrath every day for one reason or another, but essentially, yes?" you smile. "It would take some time. You would have to stay with the Dursleys until all the paperwork went through but after that you could stay with me, or Sirius, I won't make you chose sides."

"Where do I sign?" Harry laughs.

"Is that a yes?" you mumble, turning to Sirius who jumps out of his chair.

"Yes! I've been waiting to teach you how to ride my motorbike for years and Lily would never let me but now-" 

"No! You're not letting my almost child get killed on your deathtrap of a bike," you chide, softly slapping his arm and squeaking as he picks you up. 

"Think of how impressed his schoolmates would be. Why do you want our almost son to be boring?" Sirius jokes, spinning in place with you in his arms. 

* * *

Requesting a reference from Minerva is unsurprisingly the easiest of all 3. When it comes to Dumbledore, he puts up a surprising resistance. 

"The boy needs to stay with the Dursleys. He is safest there, with the Muggles, with Lily's own blood relative," Dumbledore laments. 

"With all due respect, Headmaster, that option failed the minute they locked him in a cupboard and turned him into a house elf as soon as he was old enough to clean the dishes. Excuse my French, but it's bullshit," you retort. 

"You don't understand. He has to be with them in order to keep the protection his mother provided him." 

"What about the protection we could provide him? Sirius and I. And Merlin knows Remus practically lives with me during the summer. The protection of three trained wizards, two of which were chosen personally by Harry's parents, would surely take precidence over Muggles who his parents didn't want anything to do with. Muggles who shun who he is and psychologically torture him into hating himself," you say, raising your voice at the elder wizard in front of you. "I suggest you write a glowing recommendation or come up with a better story as to why you would deny him a home."

Dumbledore takes a deep breath. You can see him weighing the options in his head before he puts quill to paper.

"Whatever happens to come next, on your own head be it," he warns. "It'll be with you no later than breakfast tomorrow morning."

Turning to leave, you see Sirius and Minerva standing by the door. Sirius slightly scared yet impressed. Minerva as proud as ever for you standing up to overturn a decision she didn't support in the first place. 

* * *

The third reference turns up in an unexpected place. As breakfast rolls around the next morning, Dumbledore having kept his word to provide his recommendation, another second letter drops to your table. 

Taking a seat in Hagrid's hut, he places a veritable bucket of tea in front of you, the cup having blue and white polka dots spotted across it in a very handmade fashion. 

"Harry told me you needed another letter to send away to the Ministry so's you can adopt him, see," Hagrid explains. "He also told me about Buckbeak." 

"The third reference has to be a professional figure, Hagrid. We already have Minerva as a Professor," you apologise. 

"But do you have a Keeper of the Keys?" Hagrid smiles, conspiratorially. 

"Not yet," you grin. "Would you do that for me? For Harry?" 

"Nothin' I wouldn't do for that boy. Carried him as a tyke right over to the Dursley's door an' I've regretted it every day since," he confides. "I'll ask Professor McGonagall to look over it like, make sure it's all readable and professional, y'know."

"You are a star, Hagrid," you beam, giving him the biggest hug you can manage. "I won't forget this." 

* * *

"What did Hagrid want?" Sirius asks, looking up from the game of exploding snap he had started with Harry.

"Oh, just some tips on his love life," you say with a straight face, ruffling Harry's hair before moving to sit next to Sirius. "Did you know he is really passionate about keeping flowers?" 

"Yeah, always going on about how his dahlias are doing," Harry nods, slapping his had down on a card pair.

"Apparently, someone had let slip about the circumstances surrounding the disappearance of a Hippogriff and now he wants to write them a letter to thank them," you smile. 

"He will? He'll write the third reference?" Harry grins, looking up from the game just as a card sets alight on your table.

Sirius quickly puts the small flame out with a water charm before spreading his arm over the tablecloth to hide the burn hole. 

"Wait what?" he asks, confused as he rewinds the conversation in his head. 

"We have three references and you owe me a new tablecloth," you clarify. 

* * *

Showing up uninvited at the Dursley's door as they sit down to dinner isn't perhaps the best impression you could have made on Harry's current guardians. The door swings open, Dudley's face dropping as he takes in you and Sirius' appearance. 

Harry pops his head out from behind you, "Alright, Dudders? Mum and dad home?" 

"Muuummyyyyy!" Dudley squeals, turning to run down the hallway into the living room. 

"Harry, remember you still have to live with them even after the paperwork is signed. It takes time to process, so maybe turn down the sass until we come back for your suitcases," you warn, trying not to laugh. 

"He's not even at 10%, love," Sirius remarks. "That was basic level and quite frankly I am appalled at the lack of style. I have high expectations." 

"It is too late to back out?" you jokingly ask yourself out loud. 

Petunia Dursley makes her appearance, hautily sweeping down the hallway, hair rollers in place for the night. Closely following is Vernon Dursley, dressing gown wrapped around him as if it will protect him from whatever abracadabra nonsense he expects from people like you. 

"Ma'am," you nod politely. "Mr Dursley, sir. My partner and I were looking to speak with you both about a matter regarding the legal guardianship of Harry. May we come in?" 

"If you must. Quickly now, before the neighbours see you," Vernon grimaces, retreating back to the living room. 

Petunia directs you to sit on the sofa opposite their own armchairs as you introduce yourself by name. 

"I teach Divination at the school," you add. "And this is Sirius."

Sirius is silent until you give him a small nudge with your knee. 

"... _Oh_ , nice to meet you both finally," he smiles. "I was friends with your sister, Lily, at school."

Petunia looks between you both as if you'd just shat on her fake Persian rug.

"Of course," she nods. "May I ask what the nature of your visit is today?" 

"Yes, how silly of me," you smile, taking out the paperwork from your bag. "We, well I really, would like to take over as Harry's legal guardians. To adopt him in essence. We would need you and your husband to sign some documentation in order for our government to process the request."

"You wish for us to sign the boy over to you?" Vernon ask, picking up his head from his dinner plate. "To wash our hands of the whole matter." 

"No, no, you can still visit if you wish. We can arrange things for you if you still want to see him-" you start to explain. 

"There will be no need of that," Vernon chuckles. "Get my pen, dear." 

Petunia looks to Vernon before shuffling off to retrieve a pen for him. 

"You would still be his guardians until the paperwork goes through and gets accepted. We'd like to take him for trips over summer in the mean time if that would be okay with you both?" you request. 

"Petunia, hurry up with the pen," Vernon roars behind him. "Yes, yes, you can take him away whenever you like, of course."

"I'll go get the rest of my stuff then," Harry proclaims, standing to leave the room until Sirius pulls him back down to the sofa.

"Unfortunately, the Ministry does require him to remain here at his permanent residence until the acceptance paperwork comes through," you reply. "Believe me, if we could take him earlier we would."

" _Shame_. Where do we sign?" Vernon smiles, pen in hand. 

"The yellow sticky notes on these four pages," you reply, passing over the stacked papers. 

When Vernon signs all of the relevant lines, he passes the papers to his wife. 

"I don't want your sort arriving at my door uninvited. Send a note through the mail to request a visit, _regular_ post only," he grumbles to you. "Come along, Petunia, it's just a few scribbles they need."

Petunia completes the last signature, taking a deep breath and folding it back to the first page before Vernon rips it from her hands and chucks it to you.

"There we go, all sorted?" Vernon smiles. 

"Yes, thank you. You should receive a notification when the papers have been submitted and another if they're accepted. We'll be leaving you to your dinner. Thank you for your time," you say, trying your hardest to stay polite. "Come along, Harry." 

Sirius stands as you stand, pulling Harry to him by the shoulder as you all speed through the hallway and out the front door. 


	19. Chapter 19

"Stay calm," you say out loud.

"I am calm. The calmest," Sirius murmurs.

Having submitted the adoption papers at the end of term, you and Sirius become increasingly impatient with each passing day without a word from the Ministry. Remus ambles beside you as you walk along Privet Drive, all 3 of you dressed in the typical Muggle attire requested by Vernon Dursley as a condition of showing up at their door. 

"Remus, how can you still wear that wool sweater of yours in this heat?" you ask. "Isn't that the one you wore to school in February?" 

"It's comfy. How can you berate me when Sirius is out like that?" he replies defensively.

"Hey, I'm cool. I'm fucking dying of heatstroke but I'm cool," he smirks, tugging on the lapels of his leather jacket before adjusting his sunglasses. 

"Yes, we get it, love," you sigh before quoting him directly. "You're so hot you created summer."

"See? Beans gets it," he laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

You flick his arm away, the leather making your neck sweaty already.

"I am... Wounded," he retorts, resorting to holding onto the ties at the back of your lightest cardigan like a child following their mother around a supermarket.

"Take the jacket off and we'll talk," you laugh, skirting out of his attempt to grab you in his arms.

"It's not a jacket, it's a lifestyle," he moans.

"Well your lifestyle doesn't get to hug me." 

"Remus, back me up!" Sirius say, turning to the man wearing the floppy hat you bought him last summer. 

"Beep... Beep... Beep," Remus says, standing still and making gestures as if he was about to land an airplane. 

"I don't get it," Sirius say, screwing his face up in confusion. 

"Long vehicle reversing," you say in a fit of giggles. 

"No vehicle escort, its not a large load," Remus adds, grinning. 

By the time you reach number 4 Privet Drive, you all have to work at keeping a straight face. Ringing the doorbell, you hear a thunder of footsteps before the door is swung open, Dudley standing to attention behind it. 

"Hiya, darling, is Harry home?" you smile, trying not to laugh as Dudley looks you up and down before walking away to get Harry. 

"I think he likes you," Sirius whispers with a smile.

You roll your eyes but before you can retort, Harry appears from the living room.

"Finally! What took so long?" Harry asks, grabbing his rucksack before swinging the door shut behind him. 

"Sirius was doing his hair," you apologise, turning Sirius by the arm to show off the half up bun at the back of his head. 

"It's called style, you might want to try it sometime, love," he snickers creeping away before you can get him back.

* * *

"Remy, are you going to sit and read this whole time? It's a beach! At least come dip your toes in the water for 5 minutes?" you laugh, watching him as he sinks his feet deeper into the sand, rolls up his trouser legs and sits on the beach towel under the parasol. 

"Too late, I have become one with the sand," he proclaims, shooing you away.

"Okay, okay, you do you. We'll check back on you soon," you promise, stumbling over the hot sand on your bare feet as you try to catch up to Sirius and Harry. 

"And that is why first years can't bring their own brooms," Sirius tells him before stopping to let you catch up. 

"You should tell him about the time Lily caught you and Remus trying to sneak him chocolate for breakfast." 

"It was milk chocolate. Highly nutritional and milk is good for babies!" he starts.

"But how much did you give him?" 

"... Half a bar," he grins. "We thought it was hilarious until you started chucking up brown liquid and we started to panic that we had broken you. Once you stopped, the whole room was covered. It looked very suspicious. Lily walked in on us trying every cleaning spell we had ever learned and failing miserably. She took one look at you, one look at us, and a whip of her wand later the mess was gone. Exceptionally good at charms, your mother."

Harry listens on, laughing along to the weird and wonderful tales of his childhood that Sirius remembers in technicolour. Both overjoyed to share and listen to stories of loved ones long since passed.

* * *

After walking to the chip shop and back, you finally get a seat on the beach towel. Passing Remus a parcel of chips, you unwrap your own.

"What is that abomination?!" Sirius calls out from beside you, gawking at your packet of chips. 

"Chips. With salt and vinegar," you answer, a confused look spreading across your face. 

"Salt and vinegar, WHAT? No!" Remus groans in disgust. 

"Salt and sauce! Salt. And. Sauce," Sirius exclaims. 

"I don't like sauce and the vinegar burns nice," you laugh. 

"What kind of sadistic monster have we entrusted you with, Harry?!" Sirius baulks. 

"This is normal where I live," you explain.

"Do you think it's too late to apologise to the Dursleys and beg their forgiveness?" Harry grins, watching you clutch your hand over your heart in mock hurt.

"I hope you all get spotted by seagulls the size of cars," you curse them.

"You take that back!" Remus shouts, eyes wide in terror. 

"Admit that vinegar belongs on chips then." 

Remus sighs, admitting his fate and nodding to the others, "May Merlin smile upon us all."

"Rest in pieces," Sirius adds. 

"Death by seagull a-salt and batter-y," Harry nods along. 

"Idiots. I'm surrounded by idiots," you lament.

* * *

A seagull-free dinner later, Sirius spots the ice cream booth by the pier and drags you along with him, leaving Harry talking with Remus about his progress at the shield charm. 

"Want to be my backpack?" Sirius asks, taking off his jacket for the first time today and slipping it around your middle, tying the arms in a knot at your waist to hold it up. 

"Why? You want to keep your bits and bobs in me?" you laugh, squealing as he hoists you up onto his back, fingers gripping onto your thighs as your arms wrap over his shoulders to hold on.

You start to relax onto his back as you bob up and down with each of his footsteps untin he suddenly starts off in a run, making you scream in surprise.

"Too fast!" you yell, laughing as your arms cling around his neck for dear life. "If you fall over, I'm not carrying you back." 

" **Speeeeeeed**!" he cries out, only slowing down when he gets to the decking of the pier. 

You slide off his back and walk beside him until you get to the booth.

"I'll get it," he proclaims, pulling a couple of galleons out of his pocket before he realises the issue.

"You and what Muggle money?" you smirk, taking out your own purse and walking over to the booth. 

Sirius hangs back while you order, a couple of women moving in to speak with him. 

"You and your sister are so adorable!" the first laughs. "Did she put your hair up like that?" 

" _They_ did indeed," Sirius smiles, "But they're not-" 

"It's so sweet how you gave her your jacket to cover her up," the other swoons. "I wish I had someone who thought of that for me."

You look down at the leather jacket covering your backside, something you hadn't even realised at the time. 

' _That was sweet of him_ ,' you smile to yourself, paying for the ice cream and somehow fitting all 4 cones between your fingers before walking back to Sirius. 

"Hey! Some weather we're having, huh?" you laugh softly, moving to let Sirius take his cone. 

"Yeah! I'm so glad it didn't forecast clouds this week," the brunette giggles, slowly looking you up and down and smiling. 

"Well, my _wife_ and I must be going. _Son_ and brother waiting impatiently, you see," Sirius announces with a polite smile to each of the women.

"Oh!... Sure, nice to meet you both! Have a lovely day!" the blonde stutters, pulling her friend away by the arm. 

"And you!" Sirius grins at them before turning back to face you. "Ready?" 

"... Yeah. Let's go," you say slowly.

By the time you reach the boys, the ice creams have half melted down your arm but at least you kept Sirius from licking them. 

"Beans get hit on at the pier," Sirius announces with a loud crunch of cone as he bites right into the ice cream, leaving teeth marks behind. "Got called their brother!" 

"You are chaotic. Lick it like a normal human," Remus tells him off.

"Did you even hear what I said?" Sirius laughs, taking another bite.

"Yeah, like it's new. They're gorgeous, it's a regular occurrence," Remus explains. "One time we went to the cinema to see Rocky Horror and they started necking this girl called Bea while Susan Sarandon was singing ' _Touch Me_ '. I made fun of them the whole way home before remembering the time we did that exact same thing a decade ago."

"Not in front of the baby, Remus," you groan, pulling Harry's head to you and shielding his ears with your free hand. 

"What's necking? Did you fight?" Harry asks, staring intently at his cone as if it's the first and last one he'll ever get. 

"Yeah, and your mum won," Remus cackles, not even noticing his slip up until the silence hits. 

Harry grins, relishing the awkward tension as he takes a lick of ice cream. 

"I think you've all had a little too much sun," you declare. "Finish up and we'll drop Harry off so the Dursleys don't think we're stolen him."


End file.
